Page 50 of Kingdom of Dance

“You can’t blame me for trying,” he told her.

After all, hadn’t King Basil told him to employ whatever tactics he could think of? He hadn’t tried just asking directly, and at this stage, he didn’t think it could hurt. She was clearly fully aware of his investigation.

A smile curved her own lips, the hint of a sparkle returning to her eyes. “I’m really not a deceptive person,” she told him. “Not at heart.”

He considered her, both his magical and his ordinary senses confirming her words. “How about I ask you some questions?” he suggested, remembering her declaration that she wished he could help her.

“Go ahead,” she invited.

Obsidian frowned in thought. “Is magic involved in whatever it is you’re up to?”

She didn’t answer, didn’t move. She met his eyes, but he could read nothing in her gaze except frustration. Was she refusing to answer the question, or prevented from doing so? He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he suspected the latter. Which surely meant magicwasinvolved.

“Are you hurting anyone when you do whatever you’re doing?” he asked carefully.

She lowered her eyes, a hint of moisture appearing under her lashes. “I know I’m hurting Basil,” she said quietly. “And I hate it.”

Surprised that she’d answered, Obsidian kept pushing.

“Then why do you do it?”

She raised her hands helplessly but made no other reply.

“Is someone hurtingyou?” Obsidian’s voice was gruff, the question slipping out without him even planning it.

Again, she gave no answer, but he didn’t miss the fear that flashed through her eyes. He felt the muscles in his arms tighten, taken aback by the intensity of his desire to find whoever was responsible for her troubles and make them pay.

Before either of them could say anything further, an unpleasantly familiar figure appeared in the entrance to the courtyard.

“Ah, Obsidian,” said the newcomer, sounding pleased. “I was told I’d find you here.”

The intimate moment with the princess was instantly shattered, all thoughts of his investigation fleeing Obsidian’s mind. If his muscles had been tense before, it was nothing to the strain in them now. His whole form quivered, and his vision blurred slightly as he tried to contain his emotions at seeing a face he’d hoped never to set eyes on again.

The lithe silver-haired man strode forward into the room, looking put out at Obsidian’s failure to return his greeting. Obsidian could see the princess looking between the two men curiously, but he had no thought to spare for her reaction.

The older man caught sight of the princess and paused his approach to offer her a graceful bow. “Your Highness. I am honored.”

She inclined her head, watching him with interest. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said pleasantly.

“To my great loss,” the newcomer agreed, with a charming smile. “I am Master Enchanter Lleuad.” His gaze passed once more to Obsidian, who hadn’t moved so much as an inch since his arrival. “Good morning, Obsidian,” he said, a hint of irritation in his voice now. “Are you going to greet me, or were you not raised to show even such basic manners?”

A growl built in Obsidian’s throat, and it was all he could do to hold it in. “I have nothing to say to you,” he said curtly. He sent the most fleeting of glances toward Zinnia. “At least, nothing that can be said in front of a lady.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Zinnia said comfortably. “I’m not a lady, just a princess. No need to speak carefully on my account.”

In any other circumstances, Obsidian would have been tempted to laugh. “What are you doing here?” he asked the intruder instead, his face darkening.

The enchanter raised an eyebrow. There were still black streaks in his silver hair, and his brows were dark. Irritatingly, he shared Obsidian’s dark eyes. More of a resemblance than Obsidian would ever wish for.

“As a senior enchanter,” said the newcomer waspishly, “I believe I am welcome in the castle, Obsidian.”

“You were stripped of your position at the guild, as I recall,” said Obsidian, his lip curling.

A flash of annoyance crossed the older man’s face. “I am still a senior enchanter. I came as soon as I learned of your presence here. I’m disappointed that you didn’t inform me of your intention to visit the capital. I would have called on you sooner.” His expression was a little sour. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to show my face.”

“You should have realized,” Obsidian spat. “I didn’t tell you I was coming here because I had no desire to ever see you again.”

“That is no way to speak to your flesh and blood,” said the enchanter angrily. Glancing again at the princess, he pulled himself together. “You must forgive the family squabble, Your Highness. You see,” he paused for a moment, looking like the next word tasted unpleasant, “SergeantObsidian is my grandson.”

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