CHAPTER EIGHTLavina faced Prince Stanislaus with her head up, allowing him to fit his arms about her and take her onto the dance floor.
She moved correctly, but stiffly, holding herself like a ramrod, until he complained.
“You might be a little more accommodating.”
“I am doing my duty Your Royal Highness.”
“Well, it’s a very bleak business if that’s all you’re doing,” he snapped.
“My duty is all I am required to do,” she informed him coolly.
Stanislaus grimaced, but said no more for a few moments. Meanwhile, as he danced, he tried to hold her closer and closer, efforts which were largely defeated by her stiffness.
“Now, come along, this will never do,” he said at last in a wheedling tone. “You really must make some effort to get along with me. I’m very willing to get along with you.
