Page 11 of Kingdom of Dance

Zinnia frowned, torn between suspicion and gratitude that he was at least being honest about his ulterior motives. “Why do you want me to meet with the Enchanters’ Guild?”

The music was changing, signifying the start of a new dance. Instead of answering, Basil led her back to the side of the room, summoning an unfamiliar man so seamlessly, Zinnia almost suspected him of having magic himself.

“Zinnia, this is Master Enchanter Hughes,” Basil said. “He’s one of the governing members of the Enchanters’ Guild.”

The enchanter bowed low. “Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you.”

“Thank you,” said Zinnia blankly. “You’re very welcome at our celebration.” She looked to her brother for clarification.

“I asked Master Enchanter Hughes to…” For once, Basil seemed to be struggling for words. He glanced at the enchanter and tried again. “To, well, consider your situation, and give an opinion on whether—”

“To examine me?” Zinnia supplied flatly. Bile rose in her throat, and her stomach clenched uncomfortably. “You asked him here to examine me.”

The enchanter shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Your Highness,” he said awkwardly, “I have no desire to—”

“It’s all right, Master Hughes,” Basil said calmly. “There’s no need to cover for me. If you’ll excuse us for a minute.” He took hold of Zinnia’s elbow and tugged her a short distance away. To his credit, he met her eye unblinkingly. “Yes,” he told her, with no sign of apology, “that’s it with the scales off. I wanted him to examine you. It’s clear to me that something is wrong, and since I’ve had no success in discovering the cause by other means, I thought it was possible that magic was involved.”

“What other means have you tried?” Zinnia’s voice came out as more of a snap than she intended. The pressure in her stomach had become painful, and she realized with a thrill of horror that it was more than just the discomfort of the confrontation with Basil.

It was happening. Now.

“Normal ones, like talking to you,” Basil answered without hesitation, unaware of the compulsion that had gripped Zinnia. “I used to be able to ask you anything, Zin. What happened? It was never the same after I came back from Mistra. Did my becoming king change the way you saw me so much?”

“Of course it didn’t,” said Zinnia, tears stinging her eyes. “But we can’t talk about this here, Basil, in the middle of a ballroom.”

“Where, then?” Basil demanded. “When?”

The pressure in Zinnia’s stomach gave a sudden, violent tug, and it was all she could do to stop herself from crying out. Instead of answering her brother, she walked back to the enchanter, spreading her silk skirts and performing a perfect curtsy.

“And, Master Enchanter? Do you sense any magic about my person?”

The enchanter bowed his head, still looking a little nervous. “No, Your Highness.” His eyes flicked to Basil, who had appeared just behind Zinnia. “Not a trace.”

Zinnia felt rather than saw Basil deflate slightly. Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. How she hated all of it. How she wished she could tell him the truth, beg him to help her instead of pushing him away. But he couldn’t help her, and worse even than that—he was in danger without knowing it, and she couldn’t even find a way to help him.

“I’m tired from my journey,” she told Basil, not quite meeting his eye. “I think I should retire.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. He looked sad at her attitude, but far from repentant. In fact, the determination on his face made her heart sink. The more he tried to dig into her secrets, the more distance would be created between them. But even that she couldn’t tell him.

She half-stumbled away from him, her eyes seeking Violet in the crowd. Mercifully, her sister appeared at her side quickly, obviously having watched the interaction with Basil from afar.

“What is it, Zin? Are you all right?”

“It’s happening,” said Zinnia tightly.

More horrible than all the rest was the way Violet’s eyes lit with excitement.

“You go tell the others,” she said. “I’ll get Lilac and Daisy.” And she disappeared into the crowd with a rustle of skirts.

Zinnia turned for the door. She knew that their early departure would hurt Basil, on top of everything else, but there was nothing whatsoever she could do about it. As usual, she was powerless. She knew better than to try to resist the compulsion. It always won in the end, and she preferred to succumb before she reached the point of debilitating pain.

“Zinnia. Welcome home.” The soft voice arrested Zinnia’s progress around the edge of the ballroom. She turned to see her sister-in-law watching her seriously. The young queen’s dark skin and tightly confined black curls stood out in a room full of Entolians.

“Wren,” said Zinnia, ignoring the pain in her stomach for long enough to give the other woman a sincere smile. “I’m so glad to see you again. Thanks for covering for Basil earlier so he could greet me when I arrived.”

Wren smiled, but the expression was troubled. “Don’t be angry with him, Zinnia,” she said, ignoring what Zinnia said and responding instead to what Zinnia was really thinking—a particular knack of hers. “Consulting an enchanter was my idea.”

Zinnia let out a breath. “I’m not angry with him.”

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