Page 107 of Kingdom of Dance

Even King Justin, Albury’s austere young king, smiled more in the one evening than Zinnia had ever seen him smile before. His eyes rested on his sister, clearly satisfied at the picture of health and happiness she presented. His wife positively glowed from beside him, the infant Prince Julian settled on her lap in the early part of the meal, until she relinquished him to a nursemaid—reluctantly, Zinnia thought.

King Justin and Queen Felicity were the only reigning monarchs to attend, other than Basil and Wren. But the royal families were all well represented. Bansford had sent its heir, Crown Prince Rian, and his wife, Princess Penny. Zinnia studied her curiously from across the room. She’d met her before, but she was still fascinated by the idea of a royal with magic. Quite the turnaround for Bansford, which had forbidden magic within its borders altogether until quite recently.

Crown Princess Azalea of Listernia was also present, with her husband, Prince Bentleigh. He was Bansfordian by birth, the only brother of Crown Prince Rian. The four young royals were seated together and clearly having a riotous time. Azalea seemed to be the center of the conversation, and frequent laughs reverberated from the group at whatever she was up to. Zinnia felt a pang of sadness as she watched from afar. She would have enjoyed this gathering so much if not for the threat of Idric.

Her eyes passed from the happy group back across the rest of the room. In spite of the dizzying array of foreign royals, the overflowing room was still primarily populated with Fernedellians. The kingdom was known for its bright fashions, and fabric in every color imaginable assaulted Zinnia’s eyes from all sides. It wasn’t just the ladies’ swirling skirts, either—the men also wore waistcoats of sky blue, or cheerful fabric slung around their necks like scarves—one man was even wearing a rather astonishing pair of sunshine yellow trousers.

The cheerful scene was almost eerie. Zinnia was sure something terrible was hanging over them all, and it made her feel frantic to be almost the only one who knew about it. But any attempt she and Violet had made to communicate the threat had led to the same result she’d faced for the last year and a half. They remained silenced.

It wasn’t entirely true that everyone was in high spirits. Basil seemed a little subdued at the start of the meal, enough to make Zinnia lean over and ask him if anything was amiss.

He looked at her, his eyes heavy. “Nothing major, I hope. I’m just a little troubled by some news from home.”

“What news?” Zinnia asked, sitting up straighter as an undefined alarm coursed through her.

Basil’s eyes searched hers, clearly noting the strong reaction. “A courier caught up to us just before we entered the city. He’d been sent to report a theft.” His voice was heavy with meaning. “Of certain magic-soaked crystals from the caverns.”

Zinnia squirmed in her seat, even as relief washed over her. Little as Basil might like it, that wasn’t actually news of any concern.

“I was hoping no one would notice,” she said ruefully.

Basil stared at her. “It was you? Surely not.”

Zinnia grimaced. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“Didn’t mean any harm?” Basil turned in his seat to face her. “Zinnia, are you truly saying that you were involved in the break in at the Enchanters’ Guild the night before we left Tola? Tell me you weren’t—one of the enchanters on duty is still unconscious in the infirmary!”

Zinnia’s mouth fell open. She’d assumed Obsidian’s second visit to the caverns had come under scrutiny. Was Basil talking instead about the crystals already in the custody of the guild?

“Of course not,” she said quickly. “I misunderstood.”

Basil narrowed his eyes, clearly far from satisfied. But at that moment, King Bern stood up, officially welcoming his guests, and the opportunity for personal conversation ceased.

Zinnia barely heard a word of the welcome speech, her mind turning over Basil’s information with concern. Someone had stolen the crystals imbued with Obsidian’s magic? That couldn’t be good.

Her eyes searched the packed banquet hall in vain, desperate to see a familiar dark-haired figure. Where was Obsidian? She’d expected him to reach Fernford by now. Was he being denied entry, since he wasn’t invited? But surely he could identify himself as a messenger for the Entolian king, and at the very least be allowed to approach the Entolians to speak with them.

Halfway through the evening, Prince Amell ambled over to the table where the Entolians were seated. Wren had drifted across the room to speak with her brothers and the other Mistrans, and Amell plonked himself into her empty seat with a flourish.

“Basil,” he greeted his old friend brightly. “We’re so delighted you’ve come. I know it’s a big ask, now you’re an exalted king and all.”

Basil smiled, reaching over and gripping the other man’s arm in a traditional greeting. “I wouldn’t miss your wedding,” he said. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been out of Tola, so I was glad of the excuse!”

Amell glanced at the clustered Entolians, grinning cheerfully at Zinnia in passing. “I thought you might have brought that lieutenant along.” He gave Basil a meaningful look. “Since he seems to be a very trusted advisor.”

Zinnia started visibly at the word lieutenant, staring between the two of them. “How do you know Obsidian?” she blurted out, her voice a little too loud.

Amell smirked at her. She’d always thought him a bit oblivious, but his expression was uncomfortably shrewd. “Obsidian, is it? I’d forgotten his name. Didn’t you know that he visited me here not long ago, at Basil’s behest? That’s strange.” His smirk grew. “I’d formed the impression you two were friendly. We discussed you at some length.”

Zinnia narrowed her eyes at him, in no mood for his teasing, no matter how on point it happened to be. She turned to Basil with an accusing glare. “You sent him to Fernford? Is that where he disappeared to when he said he visited his home?”

“He did visit his home,” said Basil calmly. “It’s right on the way.”

“But why did you send him here?” Zinnia asked suspiciously.

Basil remained maddeningly calm. “I had my reasons.”

“Nothing like a good mystery to add intrigue to a wedding,” said Amell with a grin.

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