Chapter thirty eight
Three grueling hours had passed since Elara, the head instructor for princess training, had begun drilling me into the perfect princess (or perhaps, future queen). Her instructions were crisp and demanding, leaving no room for error. Every posture correction, every turn of the wrist, and every practiced curtsy was meticulously observed and dissected.
Finally, we moved on to a more practical lesson - the art of the "Kings pass." This involved gracefully sidestepping a partner while maintaining courtly etiquette. My partner for this exercise was none other than Damian.
As I practiced the maneuver, I couldn't help but sense Damian's gaze lingering on me. I stole a glance at his face, but it remained unreadable, a neutral mask that offered no clue to his thoughts. Perhaps amusement at my rapid progress? Or maybe something else entirely?