James
I started making my way toward the dancefloor, surprised by the crowd gathered near the railing. People stood transfixed, their gazes fixed on something below. Curious, I stopped and leaned over the railing, peering down. What I saw made me freeze.
There, in the centre of the dancefloor, was Zelda. Alone.
She wasn’t wearing anything revealing or provocative—just a simple dress that flowed as she moved. But it wasn’t what she wore that held everyone spellbound. It was the way she danced. Her body swayed effortlessly, her movements perfectly synchronized with the music. She wasn’t performing for anyone. Her eyes were closed, and her face glowed with a sense of freedom as if she existed in a world of her own, completely detached from the gazes of those around her.
She look
