“Shortly before the ringing of the bells for Vespers,” Fernando said.

“Oh, great!” Afonso said as he walked toward the door, “I will try to come toward the end of your classes to see what cannot be described in words.”

Although he was tired after his lessons, Afonso headed to the dance hall as promised. As he approached the door, he heard the sounds of a flute and a harp and felt his fatigue begin to disappear. He carefully opened the door and peered inside to see Fernando and Isabel were the only ones in the hall. The musicians were sitting behind the curtain. Isabel stood with her back to the door so Afonso could not see her face. “Of course, her figure was impeccable,” Afonso admitted, looking at her from head to toe. Isabel motioned toward the curtains, and the music stopped.

Afonso liked the smooth, graceful movement of Isabel’s hand. He opened the door wider and heard her melodious voice; that was all it took to make his fatigue disappear.

“Your Highness,” Isabel turned to Fernando. “The sarabande30 is not a street dance. Although it was created for commoners, it was adapted into a court dance. And many elements of the dance have changed.

“For example,” she explained, “instead of lively jumps, you should make a light low jump and, at the same time, watch your hands. Your hands should always move smoothly and resemble the movements of a conductor conducting to the beat of the music. You and your partner must simultaneously start and end the dance, dancing in circles.

“Also,” she continued, “it would help if you did not stay too close to your partner but not too far. There must be a respectful distance between you.

“And when several couples are dancing at the same time, you will also have to ensure you are in line with everyone in your row. Am I making my thoughts clear, Your Highness?”

“I understood everything, senhorita,” Fernando said. “Just call me Fernando in class.”

“All right, Infante Fernando,” Isabel said. “Then, with your permission, we will repeat the beginning of the dance.”

Having returned to their starting positions, Isabel signaled the musicians to start the music again. Now Afonso could see Isabel from all sides. “Her name is not Isabel; her name is ‘Grace,’” Afonso concluded, silently admiring her gracious movements.

Fernando was more than right. Her perfection was indescribable. It must be seen to be understood.

When the dance was over, Isabel said: “I think, infante Fernando, you did much better this time than last time. Next time, we will work on different movements and try to perfect them. You are learning very quickly. If you continue at the same pace, you will become one of the best dancing cavaliers in the kingdom by the time your brother is crowned.

“Let us finish our lesson for today, infante,” Isabel said. “We can meet here tomorrow at the same time.”

As she finished her words, Afonso opened the door wide and went to Isabel and Fernando with a stately gait.

“Am I too late for Fernando to introduce me to the most beautiful dance maestro in our palace?” he asked.

Stepping toward them, he said, “Let me introduce myself. I’m Prince Afonso, Fernando’s older brother.”

Isabel curtseyed and introduced herself.

“Oh! Is your name Isabel?” Afonso asked. “We already have several Isabelles in the palace, the daughter and wife of our uncle, Duke Pedro. May I call you Grace? This name fits perfectly with your personality.”

“Your Highness, I am very flattered, but I like my name,” Isabel said.

“You know, Isabel, I just realized you have the most beautiful name. You don’t look like the average Portuguese senhorita at all. Where are you from?”