The tailor’s daughter, Priscilla, pushed through the crowd and reluctantly accepted the Skeleton King’s invitation to dance, taking his bony hand in hers. The King nodded and they began a minuet, forcing the fiddler and the flute player’s music to match their movements. The crowds pushed back tight against the walls whenever they came close, letting out a small unified gasp.
The king swung her in close, his arm tight around the small of her back, as they began a lively waltz around the room. They stopped dancing, he bowed low and Priscilla realized she’d been smiling the entire time.