Page 90 of Kingdom of Dance

“At being called a lowly soldier,” Obsidian informed her. “Perhaps you’re not aware, but I happen to be a lieutenant.” He gestured down at himself, and she realized for the first time that he was wearing his military uniform. Lieutenant’s jackets were black, so it was easy at first glance to mistake it for his usual dark attire. “Quite impressive for my age, some would say,” Obsidian continued.

She smirked. “I’m not easily impressed.”

“I would imagine not.”

A smile was lurking in his eyes, but there was something else there, too, something more intense. He looked almost fierce, not in a way that made her fear him, but in a way that made her want him on her side. A fleeting thought passed across her mind that he was on her side. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she knew it was true. Her reactions to him were a little too complicated to call him a friend. But she no longer doubted that he was an ally.

“There’s something else I take offense at as well,” he said, rescuing her from her confused thoughts.

“What’s that?” she asked, irritated by the breathless note in her voice. It wasn’t her fault—the intensity of those dark eyes was always a little unsettling.

Unexpectedly, Obsidian held out his hand. “Dance with me, and I’ll tell you.”

Zinnia’s heart was leaping erratically in her chest, but she didn’t hesitate. She cast another surreptitious glance over him as she placed her hand in his. He looked incredibly handsome in his uniform, even more darkly brooding and appealing than his usual look. He led her across the room, and her thoughts flew to the way it had felt when she’d seized his hand and dragged him to the caverns.

This was different.

Obsidian pulled her smoothly into the mass of already-swirling couples, moving with a stately grace that astonished her.

“Youcandance!” The words slipped from Zinnia’s mouth before she could consider their politeness.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Obsidian said wryly. “Now you know the second source of offense.”

“My apologies,” laughed Zinnia. “But I am genuinely surprised, you know. Are soldiers routinely taught to dance?”

Obsidian laughed as well. “Hardly. It’s the enchanter thing. We’re sort of in a class of our own, not quite nobility, but not quite common, either. I was forced to undergo some court training in my brief time under the guild’s tutelage.”

“Your time wasn’t wasted,” Zinnia assured him.

It was true. She didn’t mind that he occasionally missed his steps. Dancing with her dark, brooding soldier was exhilarating in a way no perfectly executed turn with a stuffy duke could ever be. Obsidian’s hand was warm in hers, his grip around her waist secure and a little possessive. It was delicious, and almost unnerving how natural she found it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe.

“Will people be scandalized that you’re dancing with a lowly soldier?” Obsidian asked.

Was she imagining that there was an edge to the words?

“They might be, if you weren’t a lieutenant,” she teased.

He didn’t laugh, his eyes searching hers as he asked another question. “More or less scandalized than they will be when the rumor inevitably circulates that you invited me into your rooms last night?”

Zinnia’s face flooded with color, and it was her turn to stumble in her steps. “Obsidian,” she said haltingly. “I’m sorry about that. It was…a foolish thing to do. I…I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to talk more, and I…”

He smiled, irritatingly amused by her stuttering. “I’m the one who passed out cold before telling you a single thing about my home,” he reassured her. “I should be apologizing.”

She wasn’t much reassured, but she took the opening eagerly. “Tell me about it now,” she invited.

For the remainder of the dance, he did, and she listened rapt to his description of his simple cottage and the sharp-witted but warm-hearted mother who’d never taken any nonsense from him and wasn’t likely to start anytime soon.

The music was just dying down when Zinnia felt it. The inevitable tug in her stomach. For a moment she tightened her hold on Obsidian, gripped by an intense desire to anchor herself to him, stay where she felt safe. But it was a foolish instinct. Magic or not, Obsidian couldn’t protect her from Idric. She felt the fire die from her eyes as she stepped back slightly, lowering her gaze.

“I need to retire now,” she told him simply. “But thank you for the dance.”

“So early?” he pressed, his eyes too shrewd.

She nodded. “I’m…very tired.”

For a moment, Obsidian said nothing. She had intended her move backward as a dismissal, but the soldier showed no sign of releasing her. His hand still rested firmly on her waist, and his grip on her hand remained strong. Again she was overtaken by a desperate wish not to leave his side. If only she could stay here, where it felt like nothing terrible could happen.

“Perhaps I can accompany you,” he said, his dark eyes unreadable.

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