Page 89 of Kingdom of Dance

When she entered the ballroom, Lilac and Violet at her sides, Zinnia had to admit that her sisters had a point. Compared to the splendor of the magic-fueled ball she’d attended the night before, the display before her felt a little lacking.

She scolded herself for the thought, knowing how much effort must have gone into the event. And she hadn’t been asked to help at all.

The food, at least, was unbeatable. She hadn’t sampled Idric’s spread the night before, some part of her rebelling against the false fare. But there was nothing delusional about the feast Basil had ordered. The tables were considerably more laden than at her welcome home ball, and she couldn’t help but be touched by the extravagance.

The sight of the food reminded her that she was famished, and as soon as she’d endured the necessary greetings and congratulations of the guests, she fell on it with no regard whatsoever for her exalted position. Violet joined her, and the two of them enjoyed a pleasant hour of eating far more than they were supposed to and secretly making fun of every stuffy courtier who threw them a scandalized look on the way past.

Zinnia didn’t say it to her sister, of course, but she was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that her gaze was searching for one figure in particular. Elizabeth had claimed he’d be there, and Zinnia felt a little aggrieved by his absence.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat so much.”

The quiet voice made her spin, a smile rising to her lips before she remembered the awkwardness of their last encounter.

“Obsidian,” she said, trying to summon a bantering tone, but aware that it wasn’t quite natural. “It’s not polite to say such things to a lady. Or to be so late.”

“My apologies for being late,” he said. “I had a rough night, and I seem to have slept most of the day away.”

Zinnia fidgeted at the not-so-subtle reminder that he’d spent the night in her receiving room, unconscious due to the fact that she’d drugged him.

“As for the other thing,” Obsidian continued smoothly, “I’ve been told that I don’t need to speak carefully on your account, because you’re not a lady, just a princess.”

Zinnia grinned. “What an outrageous thing for someone to say.”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Violet asked, sounding resigned.

Obsidian inclined his head in her direction, but his eyes stayed on Zinnia’s. The intensity of his regard caused her cheeks to warm. Needing something to do with her hands, she hurried to take another bite of pastry.

“It is true that princesses aren’t supposed to gorge themselves,” she sighed, when she’d regained a measure of composure. “Or so my mother claims.”

“Anything is good in moderation,” Obsidian said lightly. “But it is certainly possible to overindulge on some things. Wine, for example.”

Zinnia choked on her food, color rushing to her cheeks again. She threw him a sideways glance, but he was casually casting his eyes around the room.

“I’ve never attended a ball before,” he said. He cocked his head to the side, listening to the musicians who had just started up. “Will there be dancing?”

Zinnia nodded. “Of course. But don’t be dismayed. It’s only those cursed with status who are required to make a show of our skills so as not to offend the high-ranking guests who apparently need to be danced with to know that they’re valuable. No one will expect a lowly soldier to know how to dance.”

She’d spoken teasingly, but his dark eyes were solemn as they bored into hers. Before he could speak, however, the dowager queen materialized in front of the table they were sheltering behind, her eyes narrowed slightly at her eldest daughter.

“Zinnia, what are you doing back there? It’s time to open the dancing, and the duke is waiting.” She gestured to a portly man two decades older than Zinnia, who was conversing volubly with a long-suffering Basil.

Zinnia gave a groan. “Do I have to, Mother? He steps on my feet. Every single time.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” said the scandalized dowager queen. “His holdings are the largest of anyone in the kingdom, barring our own family. Twice as big as the next estate!”

“His feet are twice as big, too,” muttered Zinnia.

Violet gave a hastily stifled snort of laughter, and Zinnia saw Obsidian’s lips twitch as well. But there was nothing for it. With a sigh, she abandoned her goblet and followed her mother across the room, pinning on a gracious smile and searching for a topic to occupy her mind while her face bore her best of-course-I’m-listening-to-you expression.

Basil didn’t come to her rescue this time, and the duke was the first in a series of obligatory dances. By the time her mother finally informed her that her duty was done and she was free to enjoy her birthday, Zinnia had been half wishing for Idric’s compulsion to come for an hour.

She was attempting to sidle back to the food when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“I take offense at that, you know.”

Zinnia spun, her eyes narrowing but a smile building in anticipation of a joke. When had she started having that reaction to him? He’d never laughed when he first came to the castle. Now his eyes often sparkled with humor.

“Offense at what?” she demanded.

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