Page 74 of Kingdom of Dance

“It’s not that, Your Highness,” Obsidian assured him, and Prince Amell’s eyes widened.

“You agree with me! Has Basil come to that conclusion? I thought I was mad even to think it.”

“He’s come to no conclusions,” Obsidian said quickly. “He’s merely asking questions.”

“And Zinnia?” Prince Amell pressed.

Obsidian looked at him warily, mindful of Basil’s request for discretion. “What about the princess?”

“Where does she come into this?” Prince Amell asked. “I thought she seemed off at the christening. I even wondered if she might have fallen afoul of a certain kind of concealment enchantment that I’d been exposed to, one that silences the tongue.”

Obsidian remained still and silent, unsure what he could safely say.

“Hm.” Prince Amell considered him but didn’t press him further. “I’ll have a room prepared for you. We can discuss it more in the morning.”

True to his word, the prince had Obsidian installed in a suite almost as luxurious as the one he was occupying in Tola’s castle. He was sufficiently exhausted to finally sleep solidly, with the result that he woke considerably refreshed.

To his dismay, the servant who—most unnecessarily—attended him informed him that he’d been invited to partake of a private breakfast with the royal family.

He really had no idea why royals kept doing that.

When the servant showed him to the family’s private dining room, he was relieved to see that Prince Amell was already present. At least there was one familiar face. The prince didn’t immediately notice his entrance, however, gripped in lively conversation with a tall but graceful young woman who bore a faint resemblance to him. His sister, presumably—Princess Tora.

A new arrival to the room caused the princess to look up, her face lighting instantly. Obsidian glanced behind him to see the recipient of her beaming smile. The man carried himself like a soldier, although he wore no uniform. Something flickered at the edge of Obsidian’s memory. A rumor that the princess was to wed a guard, or something like that.

He had no time to ruminate on the matter, because the other man’s arrival had drawn Prince Amell’s attention to Obsidian.

“Welcome, Lieutenant,” he said brightly. “Let me introduce you to these two. Mother and Father will be here shortly, then we can eat.”

Obsidian had barely had time to bow to the princess and her betrothed when the monarchs entered the room. They seemed a little surprised to see the stranger in their midst, but when their son explained that Obsidian was an emissary from King Basil, they greeted him graciously.

Obsidian found himself observing the former guard surreptitiously as they all took their seats. He looked highly alert, and a little wrong-footed. Just as Obsidian would be in his position, most likely.

His thoughts flew to the endearing chaos of the Entolian royal family’s meal table, and he revised his impression. He probably wouldn’t be tense for long. They were such a lively bunch that it would be hard to stand on ceremony. He caught himself up on the thought, rattled, and attempted to tell himself that it was only his identity as an Entolian that caused him to insert himself in imagination into the Entolian royal family rather than the Fernedellian.

“Is all well in Tola?” King Bern asked, his eyes flicking between Obsidian and Prince Amell.

“Oh yes,” the prince said airily, saving Obsidian the necessity of answering. “Basil just had a question of a sensitive nature for me—a personal matter. He preferred to entrust it to a messenger rather than writing a letter.”

Obsidian said nothing, glad to have avoided direct questioning. The middle-aged King Bern was much more intimidating than King Basil.

“I imagine the lieutenant will be wishing to return home as soon as possible,” commented Prince Amell, raising a questioning eyebrow at Obsidian.

He nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. That was my plan.”

“You must be weary from your journey,” protested Queen Pietra. “You’re welcome to rest here for a day or two before returning.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Obsidian, inclining his head. “You are very generous, but I must return to my duties.”

He found that he didn’t even regret the necessity. He’d never been to Fernedell before, and he should be curious to explore the new environment. But he couldn’t be easy away from Tola, not with Zinnia’s situation still so entirely unexplained.

The food wasn’t even gone from Obsidian’s plate when Prince Amell stood so abruptly that his sister started, spilling porridge on herself.

“Dragon’s flame, Amell,” she said, without any real heat. “I thought you were settling down a little. But you’ve been as jumpy as a frog since Aurelia went to stay in Albury.”

The prince flashed her a grin. “Sorry, Tora. I guess we’ll just have to hope that her return mellows me.”

“I’m not holding my breath,” the princess muttered.

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