My shoulders ached from holding perfect posture. Lady Maris tapped the center of my spine again with the end of her pen, a silent command to straighten. I obeyed, jaw tight, trying not to let my frustration show. The mirror in front of me offered no comfort, just a reflection of a girl pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
"Again," Lady Maris said.
I dipped my head in a formal greeting, palms together, weight balanced evenly on both feet. It was better this time. She didn’t nod, but she didn’t correct me either.
We moved through the motions again and again: entrance, bow, gesture, eye contact, greeting, pivot. The same words, the same angles. I hated it, but I was improving. My body was starting to remember without thinking, which was the whole point. She didn’t praise me. That wasn’t he
