Page 9 of Kingdom of Dance

“The underground ones don’t count,” Zinnia said firmly. “This is a proper ball.”

“Of course they count,” cut in Briar. The reason for her contrary tone was revealed a moment later, as she gave a sniff. “It’s not at all logical, Basil letting Daisy attend the ball just because she’s thirteen. Violet didn’t go to her first ball until she was fourteen.”

Daisy fired up at once. “Of course it’s logical! I somehow doubt you’ll be complaining whenyouturn thirteen in a few months, and get your own suite too.”

“You’re right, Daisy,” said Zinnia placatingly. “It’s wonderful that you’re allowed to go.”

She gave Briar a look that, while stern, wasn’t completely devoid of sympathy. She well remembered the frustration of being too young to attend balls. And their father had been much stricter on such things than Basil was.

“Briar, you know perfectly well that we didn’t have balls when Violet was thirteen, on account of Father being so unwell. Besides,” she looked kindly around at all the younger ones, “everyone will be allowed to come to the feast beforehand, and I’m sure Nurse will do something special back here.”

“Idon’t even care about this stuffy ball,” sniffed Cassia, lifting her nose in a gesture that was humorous on the freckled eight-year-old. “It won’t be nearly as magnificent as the other ones.”

The rest of those too young for Basil’s ball hastened to agree, and Zinnia ran a hand over her face. It was all too ridiculous.

“Are you all right, Zin?” Violet’s voice held genuine concern, and Zinnia again forced a smile on her face.

“Just tired from the ride,” she said lightly. She smiled. “In spite of what I told Basil. I might get some rest in my own suite before it’s time to get ready for tonight.”

“Of course,” Violet nodded. “I think you’ll find a new dress there. The seamstresses made a new one for each of us who’s going to the ball.”

Zinnia raised her eyebrows. New dresses as well as new shoes? Basil had really gone all out. It made her nervous, and that very fact triggered a rush of sadness. She and Basil had once been so honest with each other—she would never have been worried that he was planning something underhanded. But she couldn’t blame him for plotting, not given her own behavior.

It was a little unfortunate that she was likely to be occupied late into the night. She’d been gone so long, she felt like she should get back into her investigations immediately. But she supposed one more night off wouldn’t matter too much. It wasn’t as though she usually made much progress, anyway. She was honest enough to acknowledge to herself that it was as much about feeling like she was doing something as about actually getting anywhere.

She’d only intended to rest, but as soon as she laid down on her own comfortable bed, sleep claimed her. She woke to find the sun on the descent, and a maid fussing around the gorgeous new amethyst gown laid carefully across a settle.

“What time is it?” Zinnia asked groggily.

The maid bobbed a quick curtsy. “Almost three o’clock, Your Highness. There’s a light luncheon laid out for you here, but it will have gone cold by now.”

At the mention of food, Zinnia realized she was ravenous, and she hastened to devour the simple repast on the tray by her bed. The maid—who was fairly new—looked a little scandalized at her enthusiasm, but Zinnia thought she could see the hint of a smile as the girl turned away.

“It’s a beautiful dress, isn’t it?” Zinnia said. She ran a hand reverently down the soft fabric laid over layer upon layer of flounce. She flashed the girl a grin, hoping to surprise another smile out of her. “I’ll feel just like a princess in this.”

The maid actually let out a giggle before she caught herself, clapping a hand over her mouth. Zinnia laughed too, slipping off the travel dress in which she’d had her nap and moving toward the amethyst gown.

“It’s all right to laugh. We don’t worry much about formality around here. You’ll get the hang of it.” She lifted her arms as the maid helped slide the dress over her head. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“She’s visiting her family, Your Highness,” said the girl, at the mention of one of Zinnia’s regular maids. “She’s due back in the next few days—when she was released for leave, we didn’t realize you’d be back so soon. She’ll be sorry to have missed your arrival.”

Zinnia waved a vague hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

She regarded herself in the mirror, pleased with the effect of the gown. They’d done well to make the whole garment in her absence. Wren had probably picked out the fabric. Her sister-in-law had a good eye, and she was starting to get her head around Entolian fashion. There was plenty of warmth still in the summer afternoon, and Zinnia was glad the dress had the usual mere bands over the shoulders, unlike the full-sleeved gowns Wren had favored when she’d first arrived from Mistra.

She ran a hand over the skin between her collarbones. She was a little tanned from riding in the sun all the way back from Albury.

“You look stunning, Your Highness,” said the maid, prodding her gently into a chair in order to start on her hair. “You’ll break a great many hearts, I imagine. Or perhaps heal a few that broke when you went away?”

Zinnia held back her snort, instead rewarding the compliment with an absent smile. Breaking hearts was the last thing she wanted to do. She liked feeling pretty as much as the next girl, but she certainly wasn’t trying to catch anyone’s eye tonight. For all Violet’s talk ofeveryonebeing there, Zinnia knew the ball guests would be made up of the members of Basil’s court, and there was no one among them whom she wanted to notice her.

Not for the first time, she was profoundly grateful that Basil would never so much as encourage her toward a political marriage. Or any kind of marriage. He was quite content to let his sisters take their time in that area, and Zinnia loved him for it. Her father had been determined to marry her off to a prince, and she had no doubt he would have achieved it by now if he still sat on the throne.

Not that she was against marriage, in theory. As much as she might laugh at her sisters for such things, she’d had her fair share of daydreams about a whirlwind romance with some tall, dark, brooding stranger. But that was before she carried the burden she could feel even now, like a physical weight in her midriff. With eleven sisters to care for and a kingdom in a peril it didn’t even know about, she most certainly didn’t have time to keep a man happy as well.

Still, there was no harm in feeling beautiful in her new dress. Or in enjoying the ball. Even if there were no promising young men, and no time to seek any out, there was always the food.

Chapter Two

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