She could do this. She could do this.

Feyla straightened out her dress that she'd slipped back on after meeting with the healers. The strike was planned for this evening, but she'd convinced Arilla to let her go back to the Magic Ministry beforehand. She took several slow, steady breaths, attempting to calm the pins of anxiety stabbing at her chest. It didn't help, but at least her hands had stopped shaking.

She stirred in a last scoop of sugar into the cup of coffee she'd planned to surprise Sedgewick with. It wasn't good for him, but he'd been so stressed lately that he deserved it.

And not at all because you're feeling guilty, right?

Feyla bit her lip and swallowed the thought down. She picked up the cup off the table in the ministry's small kitchen and went to leave.

Only for it to splatter on her arms as she smacked into Sandrina.

"Everbloom." Sandrina shook the coffee off her own arms and glared at Feyla like she wished she could be shaken off so easily. "Making a mess of everything even outside Master Alverdyne's office."

Feyla's fingers clenched around the sticky cup. "Actually, I'm usually the one fixing the messes. Even if other people cause them."

The mage tilted her head to the side. "How are your little trips to your healer cohorts going?"

"Fine," Feyla snapped back as she turned to go. "I should be done any time now."

"I saw your mother that day she came to visit you," Sandrina called out. "I didn't know you were the daughter of a guild leader. It explained quite a bit."

Feyla stopped. She turned toward Sandrina but refused to let her ears slick back. "Do you want to share what that's supposed to mean or keep being passive-aggressive like usual?"

A woman like Sandrina shouldn't have been able to keep her face so innocent. "Why would you assume it meant something?"

Feyla jabbed a finger forward. "Stop playing innocent! You've been glaring at the back of my head since Tyrinn's trial. I haven't done anything! Why do you hate me so much?"

Sandrina leaned back against the counter. She toyed with the tie on her light purple cloak and sighed, almost disappointed. "Exactly. You don't do anything. When you couldn't keep Lord Beryn, you latched onto Master Alverdyne. Now you sit around his office all day taking up space with your fake smile and your headache inducing-perfumes and distract him from all the things he should be doing."

There it was again, the same value judgments that had followed her since adolescence, the same ones that had built to a crescendo during her time at the palace. Feyla's too naive to be trusted, Feyla's not smart enough to be top of her class, Feyla's a gold digger, Feyla's being manipulated, Feyla couldn't have caught Dormaeus. And through it all, her mother's voice lingered in the back of her head, "What will people think, lovey? Are you trying to disappoint me?" She'd spent her whole life trying to making people see her the right way. She'd gotten pretty good at it too. Why was she struggling to fix it this time?

Sandrina took a step forward, her words emboldening her actions. "I'd wondered how someone like you was selected to join him on that mission but your mother being a guild leader explains everything."

Remarks like that shouldn't bother her anymore. Feyla wasn't a healer. She wasn't. It didn't matter what Sandrina thought about all the time and effort and sweat and struggle she'd poured into her former passion.

"I got that job was because I was good at what I did. No other reason," she spat out, the words tasting bitter even though she couldn't fight saying them.

Sandrina sniffed, her eyebrow rising in disagreement. "If that's the case, then you should finish going back to it."

Despite the warm coffee in her hands, the tips of Feyla's fingers went cold. "What—what do you mean?"

Sandrina looked at her like she was a specimen sample. The specs of purple from her magic overpowered the remaining blue in her eyes. "Master Alverdyne might be under your sway, but I'm not. There's nothing you could say to convince me that all your trips to that healing house are to help him."

Feyla tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. Other people scrutinizing her time at the healing house hadn't even occurred to her. "I'm not trying to hurt Sedgewick," she said carefully. Her stomach couldn't take any more direct lies today.

"If you're trying to hurt me, then the healers won't help. The ministry losing funding is going to hurt the undermages like Mydel more than it will me."

"Since when do you care about people like Mydel?" Pricks of guilt jabbed at her chest again, but she pushed them back down.

"Who I care about doesn't matter." Sandrina brushed the question aside so easily that Feyla almost believed her. "What matters is that your fake concern isn't shining through as usual." The mage shook her head and brushed past Feyla. "None of this matters. Your piddly little healer friends can't compete against mages."

Feyla scraped her fingernail against the cup as she stared at Sandrina's retreating back. Wanna bet?

In general, her Sedgewick was a private man whose public displays of affection consisted of a hand on her back or an arm in his. Which was why his next action nearly made her drop the cup she was holding

"Dearest!" he called out as he ran up beside her and spun her around right outside his office door. "Everything makes so much more sense now— Is that coffee? You really are a dearest."

Feyla flushed three different shades of red and avoided the stares of some nearby undermages. She tried to shut off the voice in the back of her head saying that they'd just given them another reason to say Feyla was a poor influence on the illustrious Master Alverdyne. It didn't work. Sedgewick tugged her into his office and shut the door.

He took the cup out of her hand and downed several large gulps. "Just right. It's going to be such a relief to have you back here during the day. My plans having felt scrambled and the kitchen always gets my coffee wrong. Now, I need you to round up Mydel and Sandrina for me."

"Are you feeling okay?" Feyla asked, still absorbing everything he'd said.

"Of course! It's all so much clearer now. Why do you ask?"

"You spun me around in front of everyone," Feyla said hesitantly. "And Delia hasn't even told me what was stolen yet."

"Bah, forget Delia." Sedgewick waved his hand in dismissal while taking another sip. He then smiled like a cat who'd cornered a bird. "I know about the memory spell. Calinya told me."

Blood drained all the way down Feyla's ears and pumped into her fast-panicking heart. "The memory spell?"

"The sealed records, Dormaeus not recognizing me, the healing house attack, it all makes sense now. The healer's guild drained Dormaeus's memories. His brother must have stolen something to try and bring them back." Sedgewick smiled again with that clever half-smirk he used whenever he'd figured something out. He set the cup down on her desk and prowled closer to her. "Now don't try to confuse me. I'm never wrong when it comes to things like this. You were right, Dearest. Dormaeus isn't alive in the way I was thinking."

Feyla's heart pounded violently. Her cheeks flushed at the look he gave her while her hands went cold. Oh, he would figure it out. He was too brilliant not to. And if he'd learned this much then how long would it take before he realized she'd been lying?

Sedgewick kissed her in a way that more than made up for his public reserve.

One of his hands wrapped around her waist and tugged her against him while the other cupped her face and gently adjusted her position. His touch sucked the air from her lungs and everything that had once been cold now tingled with warmth. Oh, if this was what everyone meant about her being bespelled then she'd happily let him bespell her...

Feyla let out a tiny gasp as they came up for air but Sedgewick quickly muted it by tugging her back again. Her back bumped against her desk. Sedgewick pressed forward more until she raised herself up onto it and tugged him closer as well. His mouth left hers to press nuzzling kisses into her neck. "I've missed you. Gates, I've missed you. Don't bother going back, we don't need whatever Delia knows..."

Somewhere in the hazy, bubbling happiness of her mind, a tiny pocket of panic burst forth. Feyla tugged away from his touch, blinking rapidly to clear her head. "Wait, what?"

Sedgewick smiled at her smugly. "We don't need Delia anymore. It's obvious whatever was stolen had to do with Dormaeus's memories."

Feyla hopped off the desk and clung to it to stop her world from spinning. "But my mother, the guild, I can't just leave."

Sedgewick pulled away and the warmth left her like a blanket had been ripped away. "Why not? I don't need what Delia knows, and considering how long it's taking her to tell you, I'm beginning to doubt she ever will."

"Mother..." Feyla shook her head but the fuzzy numbness remained. "Mother won't like it. She's just getting used to me being back."

Sedgewick's brow wrinkled in puzzlement like that concern had never occurred to him. "I suppose your mother's displeasure might make certain things more difficult in the future but it's hardly cause for you to continue the charade of rejoining the guild."

Feyla half-laughed. "'Might make things difficult'."

"Oh, come now, Feyla. I'm certainly not a child who cowers before his elders and you're hardly a century either."

Feyla hissed air out through her teeth. Sedgewick reached for her, intent on picking up where they'd left off, but she brushed him aside. "You don't understand," she mumbled, half-turning to go.

Sedgewick reached for his coffee in the absence of her and took a loud, angry sip. "I might if you would tell me. I'm not an idiot, Feyla."

Feyla folded her arms defensively. "Just because you're always saying people are stupid doesn't mean everyone else is doing the same."

Sedgewick's ears twitched. "Now you're being snippy. I've had enough of that from the lord's council, and Eleyna, and your little healer friends. I don't need it from you too."

"Well I'm sorry me being upset is so inconvenient for you, Master Alverdyne." Little pricks of guilt dug into her chest like a sharp rock in her shoe. This wasn't how they did things. Her mother preferred to hint at her displeasure long before voicing it. Her and Sedgewick dancing around their feelings was something they'd done before they got together. Not now.

Sedgewick's head jerked toward her. Hurt flashed in his eyes in a way he wouldn't have let most people see. It burnt through the harshness protecting Feyla's tender heart. "I didn't mean it like...that. You're not. I just feel—" He paused, swallowing hard like finding the words was more difficult than unraveling the most ancient of texts. "I feel...distant." Sedgewick nodded, more certain in the word choice. "More distant from you. You haven't been around, nothing makes sense, and I can't shake off the feeling that you're not telling me something."

He stared at her, but his firm gaze looked more like an open wound than his usual confident challenge. Feyla's fingers itched to reach for him, to comfort him the way he had her, but comforting him meant lying to him. She couldn't when he looked at her like that.

Feyla wrapped her arms around herself instead. "I've missed you too," she whispered, hand clasping her necklace again. "But I can't leave Delia and my mother so suddenly. In another week..."

Sedgewick reached out and gently grasped the hand holding her necklace. "They're sucking you in, Feyla. Sucking you away..." He didn't finish the thought, choosing instead to cling to her necklace the way she hadn't let him cling to her. "A week is too much. I intend to have the Carrow brothers within the day. Surely you can wrap up your commitments by then?"

They were too close to express her panic. She swallowed it whole and it slid into her gut like a greasy tonic she didn't need, sickening her from the inside out. "One more day," Feyla promised.

Sedgewick's grip slacked. He brushed his thumb down the orange gemstone and then across one of her ears. "This will all be over soon, Dearest. Despite your mother and your former flame's best attempts, I fully expect those wizard to be in my custody come dawn."

"But if you don't—"

"We still don't need Morrowbryn. If they're not at the docks, then I'm not entirely without underworld connections. I have been keeping an eye on the docks, despite...not searching them for some reason, and I'm fairly sure a certain cousin of Crayden's is in the city now."

That did earn Sedgewick a smile. "Hobrin?" asked Feyla eagerly. The cousin of the infamous crime lord, Hobrin had helped Feyla and Sedgewick when no one else would. Since Crayden's betrayal, Sedgewick had taken to asking Hobrin for intelligence whenever they thought it wouldn't put him in danger with his family.

"Don't go hunting him down," Sedgewick warned. "I rather you stay far away from that part of the docks for right now. I believe I'll be able to catch them tonight and I only brought it up because if I don't then there's still no reason to go back to that guild."

Sedgewick sighed fully, his shoulders sinking like he'd finally been able to rest after hours of work. "Once this is out of the way, you and I can move onto planning...other things." He grinned at her, the faintest hint of a blush peeking through.

Feyla finally gave in and embraced him. She gripped his coat and tried to ignore the vice her actions had on her heart. Knowing Sedgewick, he would have the brothers by tomorrow. She couldn't back down now. If the guild didn't catch the Carrows by nightfall, they'd never get the chance again.

One more day, Feyla reminded herself. She could do this.

I have to be wrong, Sedgewick reassured himself.

The nagging doubt remained. Feyla's hesitation, her general moodiness lately... Had her mother and that guild dug under her skin so quickly? Sedgewick tried to wave the thought away but it persisted like a nagging sibling. Did she not want to come back?

He picked up the coffee she'd made him. No, surely not. Feyla had long insisted she wasn't a healer. Sedgewick gnawed the inside of his cheek. But...it had been a while. What if being back among her trade was changing that? And she'd seemed almost...afraid when she thought she might disappoint her mother. An odd look on the occasionally stubborn woman he knew.

A knock sounded on the door before Sandrina swept into his office. "You wanted me, Master Alverdyne?"

Sedgewick forced himself out of his wool-gathering. "Yes, grab Mydel and start preparing to sweep the docks tonight. It's high time we finish this."

Sandrina smiled perfunctorily. "Of course, sir. But..."

"What?" he snapped. Disagreement wasn't something he felt like tolerating currently.

"It's somewhat unprofessional, sir."

"Don't play games with me, Sandrina," he said, rubbing his temples. "It's been a long day."

"Did you speak to Miss Everbloom about your plans?"

Sedgewick paused. "Of course, I mentioned them. In passing." His eyes narrowed. "What are you implying, Sandrina?"

"I'm not implying anything. I personally find her involvement unnecessary and her loyalties questionable."

Sedgewick set the coffee down on his own desk with a hard clink. "That woman saved my life. I will not have you speak ill of her."

"Even great men need minor assistance occasionally." Sandrina lowered her head in respect, ever the acolyte even outside the Ivory Tower. "But I would never believe the great Master Alverdyne would allow his goals to be compromised over a pretty face."

Sedgewick had been smacked multiple times throughout his life. Despite Sandrina never lifting her hand, he felt like he had been again. "I don't think I like your statements any better than your implications," he snapped, his voice taut like a string stretched just to its limit.

"Then feel free to disregard them." She shrugged, her braid rising with her shoulder. "I've always believed your dedication to our calling beyond reproach. If you're sure in Miss Everbloom's loyalty then I'll lay my concerns to rest despite her lack of concern and lack of results."

Sedgewick quickly dismissed Sandrina from his office to fetch Mydel and prepare for later.

Now if only dismissing her concerns from his mind were as easy.

*********************

Author's Note: Very long chapter here. To be honest, I'm not entirely happy with it but I think it's as good as I can make it at this time. No chapter sneak peek this time because the next one pretty much needs a total rewrite. I'm going to try to keep my schedule, but these next few are critical and I want to get them just right. Big plot upheavals coming up. ;)