Page 49 of Kingdom of Dance

She sent him an amused look. “You do give off that flavor,” she informed him solemnly.

He tried to smile, but his thoughts were distracted by her demeanor. The deterioration in her general impression was noticeable.

“Are you all right, Princess?” he asked softly.

“Of course,” she said lightly, a sour trickle wafting through the air at her words. She sat on a stone bench, gesturing for him to join her. “And you can call me Zinnia, you know. All the Princess-ing and Your Highness-ing gets incredibly tedious. Basil’s had to accustom himself, on account of becoming king, but I can still get away with a shocking level of informality.” She considered for a moment. “More now that Basil’s king, actually.”

Obsidian didn’t answer, unsure whether he could really bring himself to call the princess by her name. He walked slowly toward her, sinking onto the bench uncomfortably. It was much too small a space for his liking.

“But never mind me,” said Zinnia, turning suddenly to face him and giving him her full attention. “Tell me about yourself, Lieutenant Obsidian.”

Obsidian felt instantly wary. There was something behind her question. She was too interested.

“There’s nothing of much importance to tell.”

Zinnia snorted. “That’s rubbish. Everyone has a story, but you in particular. For starters, why don’t you like being called Lieutenant?”

Obsidian stared at her, surprised by the astute question.

“Don’t deny it,” she said impatiently. “You flinch every time someone says it. Butaren’tyou a lieutenant? I thought it was quite an elevated position for someone your age, something to be proud of.”

Obsidian looked away, his eyes drifting to the pond. “Only if it’s been earned,” he said.

“You don’t feel you earned your promotion?” Zinnia asked curiously. “Why not?”

Obsidian ignored her question. “The truth is, I’m not much of a soldier, not really.” Rattled by her observations, he was careful not to allow any bitterness to enter his voice.

“You see yourself more as an enchanter, do you?” Princess Zinnia pressed.

Obsidian shook his head before he could stop himself. “No, I’m not much of one of those, either.”

“What are you, then?” she challenged.

He smiled faintly. “At present, I’m a guest of the king.”

“Very glibly said,” she responded, unimpressed. “But that tells me nothing about you.”

“Another astute observation,” said Obsidian.

“Are you trying to be maddening?” she demanded.

“No,” said Obsidian, with the ghost of a smile. “But I’m not tryingnotto be maddening, and I suppose this is the result.”

For a moment, they studied each other, caught in a silent standoff.

“Why do you want to know about me all of a sudden?” he demanded.

“Is it sudden?” Zinnia asked, a little too airily. “Surely it’s reasonable for me to want to assess the loyalty of the man my brother has practically invited to join the family?”

“You’re worried about my loyalty?” Obsidian asked, surprised. “You don’t need to be.”

“I hope not,” said Zinnia, her voice quiet, and too earnest for the conversation.

“What did you do last night?” Obsidian asked bluntly, watching her face.

Zinnia looked up, startled by the abrupt question. “What? I…” She floundered for a moment. “Nothing.”

Obsidian couldn’t help smiling at how flustered she was, so focused on watching her body language that he hardly minded the unpleasant sensation of her deception.

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