Page 34 of Kingdom of Dance

It was all extremely perplexing, and not least because it didn’t seem to fit the information King Basil had given him. None of the other princesses had been involved—and whatever criticism Obsidian had harbored toward Zinnia in his heart, he didn’t believe for a moment that she’d ever take siblings as young as four with her into such an environment—and she certainly hadn’t been wearing dancing slippers. He’d gotten a good look at the sturdy boots on her feet more than once.

Obsidian left his rooms promptly, figuring that his best course would be to immediately search out the king and make his report. This task proved more difficult than he’d expected. It took him almost an hour to find a servant who was able and willing to tell him where to find the sovereign, and he was then informed politely but firmly that King Basil was otherwise occupied. By the time he found the steward, ready to push harder to be taken straight to the king, the man directed him to the family’s personal dining hall, where breakfast was about to be served.

Resigning himself to the fact that a private interview would have to wait, Obsidian entered the room as instructed. He found not only the dowager queen, but several of her daughters already inside. Queen Lucille greeted him graciously, and the princesses subjected him to curious looks. Most notable of these was the girl who had criticized his lack of interest in developing his magic, who was now studying him with disconcerting intensity.

“Can you show us some magic, Lieutenant?” she asked bluntly.

“Uh…” Obsidian paused. “What do you mean?”

“Ooh, yes, show us a trick!” pleaded another girl, not much younger than the first.

“Briar, Jasmine,” said the dowager queen warningly. “Leave the lieutenant alone.”

“He doesn’t mind.” The older of the two girls pinned Obsidian with her gaze once again. “Do you?”

Obsidian thought it over, something that was almost a smile lifting one corner of his lips. In the military, he’d hated being asked to use his magic, and treated as if it was a rare and valuable weapon, worthy of everyone’s awe. But the excited faces of the young girls before him almost made him believe his power was something light and fun, not to be taken too seriously. He’d never allowed himself to see it that way, and he found he rather liked the feeling.

“Watch this,” he said, bending onto one knee and lifting his hand. “It’s been a long time since my basic studies,” he muttered, half to himself. “Hopefully I can remember how.”

He held one hand out in front of him, palm upward. His gaze flicked to the table, where candles burned at regular intervals. With his eyes on one flame in particular, he took a moment to pause, to still his being as he’d been taught. When everything else faded away, the flame emblazoned on his eyes, he felt it. The flicker of awareness within him, his extra sense recognizing the fire,feelingits presence.

Muttering one of the simple phrases he’d learned in the small amount of training his parents had forced him to undertake, he raised his other hand and performed a flicking motion. The flame in question disappeared, then bloomed a moment later in his palm, dancing merrily just high enough above his skin not to sear it.

The young princesses gasped, eyes as round as coins. Smiling in spite of himself, Obsidian tugged at the fire’s presence in his mind, letting the magic in the air curl gently around it. At once, the simple flame flickered, growing and morphing and taking shape until a tiny burning boat sailed across his open palm. The fanciful display was met with squeals of delight from his audience.

“If you play with fire, Lieutenant, you’ll get burned. Or hasn’t anyone ever warned you of that?”

The new voice caused Obsidian to shoot to his feet, the flame flying haphazardly back across the room to its candle as he spun to face the newcomer.

Princess Zinnia stood just behind him, watching on with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Obsidian’s neck felt suddenly hot at being caught in such a childish activity, but he quickly mastered the emotion.

For a moment he just stared, finding himself unexpectedly thrown by the sight of her, calm and serene and in her royal environment. He hadn’t taken much notice of what she wore at dinner the night before—except for the sand on her clothes—but now he couldn’t stop looking. Her gown was of a pale blue, and as she walked forward, its diaphanous folds moved like waves lapping gently on the sand. Its sleeves were nothing more than thick, embroidered bands, leaving her shoulders bare. Their light tan, and the freckles lightly sprinkling her skin, showed the hours she spent in the sun. Her gown showed to admiration how shapely her figure was, and he knew a flash of irony that the garb of the midnight before—every inch of her covered—was the attire considered scandalous on a woman.

He realized she was watching him in growing bewilderment and pulled himself together. It was clear to him now that the sparkle in her eyes was one of great intelligence as well as humor. Still, it was hard to believe the slim, elaborately clad princess before him was the mysterious figure who had prowled Tola’s slums.

“Good morning, Princess,” he said cautiously.

“Lieutenant,” she nodded, still watching him with that inscrutable expression. “That was a pretty trick.”

Obsidian was silent for a moment, unsure whether she was mocking him. Suddenly, her face broke into an appealing smile, and he relaxed in spite of himself. Her eyes seemed to laugh at herself as much as him.

“What happened to the world being safer without magic?” she asked, still smiling.

He mirrored the expression before he could help himself. “None of us make safe decisionsallthe time, do we, Princess? We all like to play with fire a little, as you put it.”

Her expression sobered, her brow furrowing slightly as she searched his face. But she had no opportunity to respond, as the young king and queen entered the room at that moment.

“Good morning, everyone,” said King Basil cheerfully. He nodded to Obsidian. “Lieutenant.”

Obsidian saw Princess Zinnia’s gaze flick to him, but he didn’t dare look at her. Instead, he bowed to King Basil and Queen Wren. The latter smiled warmly at everyone, although she didn’t speak a greeting aloud. Obsidian had noticed that she didn’t speak much, although he certainly wouldn’t have described her demeanor as shy.

King Basil waved a hand in reference to Obsidian’s bow. “Oh, there’s no need for that every time we see each other. If you’re dining with us every meal, it’ll get tedious in a hurry.” He glanced around. “Shall we eat?”

Obsidian followed the king’s gaze, realizing that the entire family was now in the room. The rest of the princesses must have come in with Princess Zinnia. He hadn’t even noticed, too focused on the strange contradictions she presented.

He had assumed, the night before, that the seats everyone had taken were formally assigned according to some kind of etiquette. But when the princesses all strolled to the table, chatting animatedly, they seemed to choose their places at random. The king and queen still sat together, but the dowager queen was now beside her second oldest daughter, one of the younger girls between her and her son.

“You can sit next to me.” The words came from the somewhat blunt girl who kept asking him uncomfortably direct questions. Princess Briar, if memory served.

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