The trip had gone well.

Or at least that's what Feyla kept telling herself while climbing the steps to the palace gate.  The palace—like many important buildings in the city—had a stone foundation that raised it several feet off the ground to help combat the flooding that occurred during the rainy season.  She smiled politely at the guardsmen in front of the palace gate and briefly showed them her pass before entering without a problem.  The summer heat beat down on the top of her head and on the flower beds spread out across the stone courtyard.  Feyla skimmed her fingers listlessly through one of the many mosaic fountains before making her way to the archway that led to the Magic Ministry's section of the palace.

She'd done what she'd set out to do.  Sedgewick was back and alive and that was where her obligation ended.  Goodness, she'd even done a bit more than she'd planned.  They'd released Vin just as she promised and he'd left them at the border.  She'd given him the names of a few contacts from her Battle Healer days.  People with similar beliefs as herself who helped former black magic users.  He'd been skeptical and aloof but had still taken the list of names and locations.

I hope he turns out okay.  He didn't seem that far gone... she thought wistfully.

As Feyla climbed the steps leading to the double-door entrance to the ministry, the whispers of the few mages from past the open doors pricked her ear.  She glanced at them briefly but they grew silent at her approach.  Continuing down the halls, she passed several more mages on her way to Henna's office, the woman in charge of distributing wages, among other things.  With each person she passed the air around the ministry seemed to grow tenser and tenser as if the strings of an instrument were slowly being tightened to a snap.

The doors to Henna's office were open, and Eleyna should have arranged for Feyla to pick up her things and tie up any loose ends without having to see a certain someone.  Feyla's ears started to droop at the thought, but she quickly shoved the feeling aside.  A few years ago, Sedgewick's admittance that he was "very fond" of her would have had her blissfully floating for days.  Now?  She shook her head.  He hadn't truly meant it, at least not the way she wanted him to.  Sedgewick's forced admission was nothing more than a weak, insincere platitude.  Her throat clenched as she held back her building emotions.

"Good morning, Henna," Feyla said as normally as possible.

Henna nearly dropped the papers she'd been bringing from the back room, her eyes widening at the sight of Feyla.  "F—Feyla?"

Feyla blinked in confusion.  "It's just me.  You okay?"

The woman's eyes jumped from Feyla to the door and back again.  She smiled a weak, watery smile before responding.  "Quite.  Never better.  Please just excuse me for a moment."  She dashed out the door and a groan was heard soon after as if she had collided into someone.  Hushed, frantic whispers drifted down the hall before a different figure popped his head in the room.

Mydel entered the room, his young face fluctuating between nervous excitement and nervous anxiety.  "Hi, Feyla," he stuttered, lifting up his yellow hat slightly.

Feyla smiled.  Their date had been, well, honestly kind of boring and he'd been trying a bit too hard to act mature and impressive but Mydel was still a nice young man.  "Hi, Mydel.  Have you noticed people here acting weird?  Did Sedge— Master Alverdyne start a firing streak or something?"

It wouldn't surprise me.  He probably took care of Tyrinn and just swept whoever else was annoying him out while the door was open, she thought.

Mydel gaped at her, his hat slipping to the side as he tilted his head.  "Master Alverdyne—he's, he's being charged with using black magic.  They went to his quarters to arrest him but he's vanished."

The sweltering heat dissipated as Feyla was hit with a sudden chill.  Her mouth fell open as she gasped.

"I know!" Mydel responded to her reaction.  "I didn't believe it either.  Master Alverdyne was harsh, sure, but he always seemed to really care about the ministry.  Master Tyrinn said—"

Feyla snapped out of shock at the mention of that name.  "No, no, you're wrong!"  She grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him closer.  "Tyrinn's the one who's been messing around with sorceresses and black magic!  I know, I was there when we proved it!"

The sound of moving metal and heavy footsteps reverberated down the hall.  Two heavily armored guardsmen appeared at the door with Henna peeking fearfully from behind them.

Feyla's hands went slack and fell to her side.  A realization struck her as she back away from Mydel.  "You all think that I'm helping..."  She twisted back to Mydel, shaking an angry finger at him.  "You were stalling me!"

One of the guardsmen entered the room.  "Miss Everbloom, we've been instructed to bring you with us.  Please come quietly."

Feyla touched her head as the room seemed to tilt.  This couldn't be happening.  Sedgewick would never.  And if Tyrinn was his accuser then it didn't take a genius mage to help her fill in the blanks.  She slowly walked towards the door, the ground still uneven beneath her.  Mydel reached out a hand to steady her and began helping her down the hallway while the guards flanked her on either side.

He leaned closer and lowered his voice.  "So, this is kind of awkward but assuming you're not actually aiding a wizard—

"Sedgewick's not a wizard!" she whispered back.

He dunked his head and stared at his feet.  "I hope you're right.  Master Alverdyne—he always treated me seriously.  Didn't expect any less because I was younger and less experienced.  Pushed me to be better.  I respected him, even if I didn't exactly like him.  Something about this just doesn't add up."

"Because he's being set up."

"Maybe you're right but from what I've heard, the evidence is pretty convincing."

They both fell silent until they reached what she assumed was the office of the Captain of the Guard.  Mydel released his hold on her and fiddled with his hat brim.  "Anyways, what I was trying to say is that, uh, assuming you're not arrested, do you want to go out again?  I—I had a really nice time when we did."

Feyla opened her mouth and closed it as she tried to think of a response.  One of the guardsmen snorted before firmly laying a hand on her shoulder and pushing her inside without waiting.  The door closed on Mydel looking as if he'd like to set the stronger man on fire.

Her knees shook as Feyla approached the captain's desk and took a seat.

An hour later, Feyla exited the palace gates, her neck red from embarrassment and her face red with indignation.  The Captain of the Guard's words still circled through her head.  His every word had dripped with bias and judgment and bitterness.  Yes, she understood why she was suspicious but the way he said it all...

He'd taken her palace pass away.

We can't have a possibly disloyal woman roaming through the royal family's residence.

She'd asked to speak with the queen.

Her Majesty is far too busy to worry with someone such as yourself.

He'd told her with a vicious relish that if she left the city, they would arrest her at the nearest opportunity.

She'd asked why she wasn't being arrested then.

As of yet, we do not have enough evidence to justify that.  I'm sure that problem will be rectified soon.

He'd then finished it off by saying that if Master Alverdyne tried to contact her, she was to report it immediately or face the consequences.

Feyla had never liked him but this newest interact made her doubly glad she'd turned down his past advances.  Still fuming, she picked her way through the bustling city to her home before finally arriving.  Feyla sighed tiredly and climbed the steps that led past her lower neighbor to the top half of the building.  After entering, she wiped the sweat from her brow and turned to trigger the glowlights.  Feyla never could never have afforded them on her own.  The devices were relatively new and most people still used candles and such.  She ran a finger across the rune disc, revealing in the cool touch of the material.  Sedgewick had installed them for her.  She'd twisted her ankle one dark night and the very next day, he'd appeared at her doorstep demanding she let him put them in.  Oh, he'd made up an excuse about how he'd wanted to test some new techniques but they both knew why he'd really done it.

If only he would have been willing to admit it, she thought, biting her lip in irritation. 

Where was he now?  Was he safe?  Did he intend to come back?  And what about Tyrinn?  Worry bubbled up to replace her irritation but Feyla was too mentally exhausted to think on it much further.  She needed a nap.

Paper brushed against her sandaled foot.  Feyla knelt to pick it up.  A letter.  Maybe it was from her cousin.  Goodness knows, she could use some happy news today.  She flipped it over. 

It wasn't her cousin.

It was Sedgewick.