Lavinia walked towards the door.
“I suppose I should help Mama in choosing what clothes I should take with me,” she said. “I would not want the people over whom Prince Igor rules to think that I am shabby or not smart enough for them.”
She was trying to speak bravely and amusingly.
But her father was well aware of the fear that still lingered in her eyes and the fact that she was visibly very pale.
“You must arrive as grandly as possible and look as important as we really are,” he replied. “In fact I should wear a crown, only it might be damaged on the journey.”
To his delight his daughter laughed.
“You would look funny in that, Papa,” she replied, “especially if you are riding on horseback.”
“I am going now,” her father said, “to tell the Army to look smarter than they have ever d
