Grace

Chapter 60

Along with the stuff I'd bought earlier, I had a dark green swath of material which Master Evans had given me as an inspiration piece. I started with it covering the majority of my body and did slow, pained movements, but they slowly became more energetic and eventually I'd throw away the material altogether. It was a fifteen minute dance that was an epic story of poverty, love, temptation and absolution.

I ran through it all in one go, confidently remembering the choreography, but knowing which bits needed improvement. It was almost instinctive now to assess and analyse as I was dancing rather than waiting to watch a video recording. It saved time and ensured I concentrated more as I was dancing.

By the time I got to the end I was worn out, sweating and short of breath. I didn't care where I was, I lay on the floor starfish style. The floor was cool and that was far too nice right now. I closed my eyes.

"Grace, that was amazing!" Ben crowed and pulled me up and into an excited hug. "Ugh, you're all sweaty."

I laughed as much as I could. "Fifteen minute solo dances will do that to – is someone cheering?"

"The Maharaja and Maharnee of Rajkot. They're pretty alright actually. Come and meet them."

I let him pull me up. "You didn't tell me they were going to be here."

"They got here a couple of days early otherwise they would have got stuck behind some storm, or so they say." He reached out and turned one of the not-earrings around. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

"Your face said it all."

It took a couple of paces for him to catch up with me.

"Curtsy, call them Your Excellency. They'll do the rest."

The Maharaja was in rose gold, matt silk clothes that were heavily embroidered. A matching turban had a huge diamond nestled in gold and diamonds. The gold chain went all the way around his head. He was in his fifties, had a small moustache and jewels crusted his fingers.

"Your Excellency, this is Miss Grace Bennett," Ben said.

He held his hand out to me. I took it hoping my hand wasn't too clammy and curtsied.

"My wife, Prachi," he said.

She stepped forward a little and smiled her ruby lips at me. I curtsied.

"It's not often I see someone with more jewellery on than me," she said. Her accent was almost perfect English.

"Ah, all mine's glass," I smiled.

"But the lahanga's real enough. Where did you get it?"

"A market near Black Friar's bridge."

"An Indian market? Raja, we must go. You know I like visiting places here."

"The crowds, Parchi," he said soothingly.

"Oh, most won't even recognise us," she said a little crossly. "I'm going with or without you whilst we're here."

"You can borrow some of our guards," Christian said. "They know the area. And one of the stalls has the finest curry you ever tasted."

His Excellency smiled a little and spoke with a medium thick accent. "Very well. But this moment is not about us. Grace, your dance was exquisite."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," I said and felt the need to curtsy again, but didn't. "I've practiced a lot, that's all."

"And practiced well," he smiled.

"May we see it again?" Prachi asked.

"Of course, Your Excellency," I said, because you didn't just say no to people like her.