La Princess Pirouette la jeunne looked radiant as she crossed the ballroom floor to give her father a kiss on the cheek. All eyes were upon the young denizen of the palace who only now was emerging from an extended period of mourning. Yes, the death of the Margrave Pierre had been a terrible blow, but to look at the Princess now, you’d never guess that just a few days prior, she’d stained the pillows of her bed with copious tears!
Now, however, she danced every dance as if held aloft by gossamer wings. She laughed like a little bird, putting a delicate hand up to her neck, as if she were afraid her diamond necklace might drop to the floor. She had smiles for everyone. She chatted with all who came near. It was as if the Margrave had never been born at all.