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Emma stepped toward Konstantin, wondering why she was so nervous. No one was there to
witness her clumsiness. They were the only two people in the theater.
He took her hand in his and pulled her close. “Flex your knees,” he said, “and push your hips
into me. No, not straight in, not like that. You stand a little to the left of me. It is so we will not
knock knees or step each on the other one’s feet.” Emma bent her knees and pushed her hips toward
him. It was a most extraordinary position to be in and they were having an even more extraordinary
conversation.
“Now,” he said, “the woman remains to the left of the man during the entire dance to
accommodate his sword, which hangs on his own left hip. I do not have a sword, but try to imagine.”
He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing a bit over the bridge of his substantial nose. “If it is done
correctly, there’s a bit of a hollow there, just right for you to slip into. No. Closer. You must not be
so afraid. It is all very natural, is it not?”
Was this natural? If so, why had she never felt it before?
“So you see,” he said, when she had finally edged herself close enough for his satisfaction.
“We are not bending the tops of our bodies away from each other, we are pushing the lower bodies
closer to create that illusion. Keep your arms high, if you please. I do not want a drooping flower.”
He turned her slightly to the left and then to the right but did not move his legs, which was a relief.
Their four feet were so close that she was afraid if she moved even one of hers, she would topple.
“I don’t think you understand. I have just arrived here. I am a stranger in your country and
entered into this pageant at the last minute, as some sort of courtesy to the Queen. No one expects me
to be good.”
“Will you be dancing with me?”
“Evidently.”
“Then I expect you to be good. If you have finished talking, we shall now attempt to waltz.”
We are all but fused, Emma thought. It is impossible to clang against each other when we start
out so close, and I won’t lose him in the turn, and there’s some comfort in that, I suppose. They had
only been working together for a few minutes and already she could tell her back would be sore when
she climbed into bed tonight, and her legs exhausted from keeping her knees so unnaturally forward,
wedged between his.
But when Konstantin began to move, Emma could see at once the wisdom of this strange