Lirael was grateful the dance required Jareth to hold her as it did, for all the spinning and movements had her a bit dizzy. All of the things she could do--traveling through Death and casting magic, not to mention her moderate skill with a sword--and a little dancing threw her off her balance. In battle, she would have had something to keep her focus on; the movements weren't seemingly random. She shifted her focus to Jareth, meeting his eyes.
"I am dancing with you, aren't I?" Clearly her actions sometimes fit his desires. "Didn't you tell me once that you wanted for nothing?" She was glad to hear that wasn't so. That would be dreadfully boring. There were certain things she wanted him to want. "As a king, other titles are probably more befitting than 'lord'," she mused. She had called the White Queen 'Her Majesty', which was the appropriate title for high royalty. She usually called Jareth 'your grace' or 'my lord,' both of which were more suited to lower nobles. "Does it bother you?" she asked. "That I bowed lower to our host than I do to you?"