A Dance with Magic: A Twelve Dancing Princesses Novella (The Twin Kingdoms Book 2) by Nancy O'Toole

Author:Nancy O'Toole [O'Toole, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Midnight Tide Publishing
Published: 2021-10-05T16:00:00+00:00

12

The Shadow

Rebecca

The answer, of course, was Zahir.

And by The Mother, did every Kelvian in the room know it. I caught sight of more than one of the soldiers glancing in his direction. Even Zahir seemed to see it coming, his posture stiff, jaw clenched tight. I held back a sigh. If there was anything that my personal guard had little patience for, it was unnecessary pageantry. Making a spectacle of himself would only leave him uncomfortable and frustrated.

Not to mention…

I glanced over at the Master, standing as tall as he had at the masquerade, even if his personality was a shade less theatrical. In fact, there almost seemed to be a sinister edge to his grin.

“Hey, you should go,” I heard Prince Victor whisper near me, knocking his sister’s shoulder with his own. Several eyes fell on the princess, and her fair skin began to color.

“D-don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. “Princesses can’t be fighters.”

“Okay, okay!” A burly soldier stepped forward from the line. “I fought in the war. No one took down more Verdian scum than I did.”

“Oh dear,” Lord Reginald said, resting his forehead in his palm.

Apparently, Victor wasn’t the only one who had a particular talent for fitting his entire foot in his mouth.

The Master turned to him swiftly. “I see you have a musket, sir. Is that the only weapon you fight with?”

The soldier nodded in response. “Best shot in the queen’s guard.”

I heard at least one of the men let out a snort at that particular proclamation.

“You misunderstand me,” the Master replied. “I need the most skilled fighter.”

“It takes plenty of skill to accurately fire a gun.”

“Of course, of course! I do not deny that. But we are speaking of the magic of the fair folk. They fought with blades and arrows. As a result, we are looking for slightly more…traditional weapons.”

“Then you should talk to Zahir. He’s into old-fashioned stuff like that.”

At that, every eye in the room turned toward my guardsman, who stood, arms crossed over his chest. I felt my breath catch in my throat.

No. Not Zahir. Not…

“You heard him,” the guard next to him said. “Come on, man, show off your stuff. We all know how good you are.”

“My duty is with the queen,” Zahir said stiffly. “Not in providing entertainment.”

“Mother’s tits, have some fun for once! I’m sure this will make Her Majesty smile.”

My grip clenched around my wine glass in front of me. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything I would enjoy less. There was just something about the idea of my Zahir in the Master’s clutches…

Several other guards joined in, urging Zahir to step forward. One even shoved him. The tall man lurched forward, ending up right in front of the Master.

“Ah, a volunteer. And one with a sword.”

“Listen.” Zahir shook his head. “I’m not going to—”

“Oh, but what I need is such a simple thing.”

“And what is that?”

“Your shadow.”

With that, the Master raised his hand, flat and opened-palmed, and blew a fistful of powder straight into Zahir’s face, causing the swordsman to stumble back, coughing.

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