Why were not kings molded in this form?
All the kings she had met had something the matter with them, crooked legs, weak eyes, bald, young, or old, and daft over gaming-tables and opera-dancers.

And the one man among them all--at least she had been informed that the king of Jugendheit was all of a man--had politely declined.

There was some chagrin in this for her, but no bitterness or rancor.

In truth, she was more chagrined on her father's account than on her own.
"You should have taken the south pass.

It was lovely yesterday." "Perhaps this way has been wisest." "Are you become afraid of me ?" archly.
"Yes, your Highness." If he had looked at her instead of his horse's ears, and smiled, all would have been well.
She instantly regretted the question.