He's around the twist,' said Azalea. 'Breaking all the windows? He's mad.' to break all the windows in the house and drown yourself in a bucket but don't actually do it, well, that's love.
A muffled voice startled them both. her?They pulled away. In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against the glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium and Eve whispered and giggled to each other; Bramble wore a magnificent grin on her face and a spark of light in her yellow-green eyes.Another figure stood among them. This one had his arms folded across his chest, stiff and firm and formal......Yet he did not look displeased.
She looked at him, his soft brown eyes and tall form, and contemplated raising herself on her toes and kissing his ear, or his cheek...Instead, impulsively before leaving, she reached up and smoothed his mussed hair.Mr. Bradford beamed.
One day, my lady. said Mr. Keeper, stepping aside and allowing her to join them, I should hope I would be fortunate enough to see such a graceful, unearthly curtsy from you again.
The King had advertised the old magic tea set, but for some reason, no one wanted sugar teeth that could gouge their eyes out.
It is not a Christmas tree! said the King, so firmly that all the girls stopped jumping about. This is a house of mourning. It is nothing more than a tree. I thought it would look nice. Inside. That is all.
He was shockingly easy to follow. The pressure of his hand, the step of his foot, the angle of his frame... it was like reading his mind. When he leaned right, they turned in perfect unison. He swept her across the gallery in a quick three, a dizzying pace. Gilded frames and glass cases and the window blurred in her vision, and Azalea spun out, her skirts pulling and poofing around her, before he caught her and brought her back into dance position. She could almost hear music playing, swelling inside of her.Mother had once told her about this perfect twining into one. She called it interweave, and said it was hard to do, for it took the perfect matching of the partners’ strengths to overshadow each other’s weaknesses, meshing into one glorious dance. Azalea felt the giddiness of being locked in not a pairing, but a dance. So starkly different than dancing with Keeper. Never that horrid feeling that she owed him something; no holding her breath, wishing for the dance to end. Now, spinning from Mr. Bradford’s hand, her eyes closed, spinning back and feeling him catch her, she felt the thrill of the dance, of being matched, flow through her.”Heavens, you’re good!” said Azalea, breathless.”You’re stupendous,” said Mr. Bradford, just as breathless. “It’s like dancing with a top!