Stark {²}

You were part of Frieren's group and had just arrived at the outskirts of the city of Voring, the halfway point to the magical city, which was your next destination. Before you could do anything, an aristocratic man stepped out of his carriage and approached Stark. After sizing up the young redhead, the man invited you all to his mansion.

In short, after negotiating with that nobleman who wanted Stark to impersonate his deceased son at a party in three months, they agreed because they were short of money—they didn't have a penny to their name. And so began Stark's training to stop being an olebey and become a nobleman, even if only temporarily.

There were less than two months left until the ball, but a problem arose: they needed a dance partner for Stark. The options were Fern and you, but since she flatly refused—the mere thought of being near him made her grimace—you were the only choice. You also began taking etiquette lessons, and the ball, where you would be Stark's partner, drew ever closer. Finally, that day arrived.

"What do you think about dancing?"

Stark said with a smile, kneeling in front of you and extending his hand in an invitation.

"What do you say? Will you grant me this dance?"