Page 106 of Kingdom of Dance

A spark of anger flashed into Lorne’s eyes, the magic between his hands pulsing responsively. But the enchanter mastered himself, the fire in his eyes hardening into ice.

“I see your grandfather was right about you,” he said. “You really don’t know what’s good for you.”

“My grandfather?” Obsidian didn’t think he could feel more horror than he already felt, but apparently he was wrong. “What does he have to do with this?”

“If you’d only listened to him when he approached you, ready to offer you the chance of a lifetime, perhaps we could have reached a more amicable agreement,” Lorne said coolly. “But now, here we are. Your cooperation, or your mother’s blood on your hands. That’s your choice.”

He turned on his heel and strode from the room, his parting words tossed over his shoulder.

“Don’t take too long to decide, little soldier. The wedding is in two days.”

A slam of the door, and he was gone, leaving Obsidian frozen in horror in the center of his familiar kitchen. He’d always known his magic was a danger to his parents, but even in his wildest fears, he’d never imagined this. Even the fact that his grandfather had clearly had a hand in it was no less than he should have expected.

The prospect was grim indeed. Lorne, whose narrow-minded focus was on exacting petty revenge on the Fernedellians, might not understand why Idric wanted Zinnia to be involved. But Obsidian saw the significance at once. If a princess of Entolia murdered a prince of Fernedell and a princess of Albury, in the presence of not only their Mistran allies, but royalty from Bansford and Listernia…as a soldier, his considered opinion was that the continent would rip itself apart in the war that would inevitably follow.

In all of this nightmare, he’d been chosen to play a central role, and if he refused, his mother would be killed as brutally as his father had been.

What was he going to do?

Chapter Twenty-Five

The impressive sight of Fernford rising up on the plain as the party emerged from a thick grove brought Zinnia no joy whatsoever. It was undoubtedly a beautiful city, its many colors blooming even from a distance. And the castle, whose flag-covered spires reached from the center of the city toward the sky, was the most picturesque building she’d ever seen.

It all made Zinnia feel sick. Had she made the wrong decision to come? Should she have fought Basil on it? But she had no doubt the dragon would have found a way to bring her there if she’d proved recalcitrant. He’d shown himself effective in coercing her before.

What horrors did Idric have planned for this beautiful place and the joyful event to take place on the morrow?

“Are you all right?” Violet asked quietly from the horse beside Zinnia’s. She nodded, faintly reassured to remember that she wasn’t alone in her fears this time.

The thought made her glance behind her, but all she could see was the rest of the cavalcade that had traveled with them from Tola. It was foolish, she knew, to hope that Obsidian would come riding up, ready to rescue her from her doubts. He was traveling some distance behind them, and probably wouldn’t arrive for hours.

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?” The bright voice of her sister-in-law brought Zinnia’s attention back to the group she was riding with.

She nodded, trying to smile for Wren, although the expression felt stiff.

The Mistran princess looked her over thoughtfully but didn’t comment on her strange demeanor.

“Are any of your family coming, Wren?” Violet asked, helpfully directing focus away from Zinnia.

Wren nodded, a smile lighting her face. “Two of my brothers will be there to represent Mistra.”

“Crown Prince Caleb?” Violet asked.

Wren shook her head. “His wife, Anneliese, is too far in her pregnancy to safely travel, and it’s not easy for him either with his limitations. My second brother, Averett, is coming, along with Ari, the youngest.” Her voice turned indulgent. “He’s very excited, apparently.”

Zinnia smiled absently, unable to focus on the light chatter. Her mind was torn between fear over what might be coming and a desperate longing for Obsidian’s arrival. She knew it was silly—there was nothing her soldier could do to prevent whatever Idric had planned. But she still wouldn’t feel easy until they were together again, a united team against the threats assailing them.

Given the number of royal guests in their group, it was no surprise that they were greeted on arrival by the entire Fernedellian royal family.

Amell was bouncing on his feet even more than normal, his excitement about the following day’s wedding clear in every line of his eager frame. It was endearing. In fact, Zinnia was able to look on all of the prince’s quirks with fondness now that she was absolutely certain she wouldn’t be forced into marrying him.

His bride-to-be stood beside him, her smile a little shy, but a welcome clear in her eyes. Princess Aurelia really was stunningly beautiful, Zinnia reflected, with the unusual combination of those piercing blue eyes and the dark hair which had now grown down past her shoulders. The way she smiled up into Amell’s eyes was positively adoring, and Zinnia could see that the formerly restless prince had found somewhere safe to give his heart.

Zinnia wasn’t safe. The gloomy thought flashed across her mind without permission. Getting involved with her was more in the nature of playing with fire.

But Obsidian said the flame was worth it, answered a hopeful voice, and she turned away from the happy couple with a secret smile. She begrudged them nothing.

King Bern and Queen Pietra hosted a fabulous feast to welcome all their guests, and to start the next day’s celebrations a little early. With the exception of Zinnia and Violet, everyone was in excellent spirits, wine flowing freely as visitors from across the continent toasted the upcoming alliance between Albury and Fernedell.

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