Sedgewick hadn't always hated parties.

When he was younger, he'd reveled in the decadent food, the expensive drink, the moments he'd spent snatching every possible dance with--

But never mind that.

Now he saw them for what they really were. Pointless social gathering where he was forced to wear uncomfortable clothing and pretend to tolerate people he despised.

Sedgewick leaned against a tree while polishing off his first glass of wine. He briefly considered getting another but ultimately decided against it. He could usually hold his alcohol fairly well, but with his magic acting up, it wasn't worth the risk. As his notes on the new spell flickered through his mind, Sedgewick once again gazed around the party in hopes of spotting the elusive ambassador. He'd held off on approaching her in order to avoid arousing suspicion, but it should have been long enough now. Irritation flared as he failed to catch sight of her. This was getting ridiculous. Why couldn't it go smoothly? Ever since this curse had landed on him, things that should have been simple were slowly unraveling around him. Breathing in deeply, he reassured himself that it would all be over soon.

Glancing around the area one final time, he made eye contact with a familiar set of aqua eyes.

Feyla, he thought, somewhat relieved to see a familiar face.

Losing interest in standing apart in solitude, Sedgewick nodded for her to join him. Feyla was far more sociable than he was and would doubtless have a better idea of where to find the ambassador. She held his gaze and he knew her well enough to recognize a flicker of irritation in her eyes. She couldn't still be upset about earlier, could she?

Her head jerked away and he was forced to watch in dumbfound amazement as she rejected his beckoning in favor of having Lord Beryn wrap his arm around her and lead her to the dance floor. Unable to tear his eyes away from the two of them, and still not quite comprehending what had just occurred, he stepped out of the shadows of his tree.

That scoundrel had circled his arm around his assistant's waist. She smiled up at him invitingly as they began to dance. The man leaned forward and said what Sedgewick assumed was a crude attempt at flattery. Feyla blushed the same color as the dress that was hugging her soft curves and flaring out as she spun in the other man's arms. A moment later, she laughed and shook her golden head, her hair now free from that ridiculous knot she'd imprisoned it in earlier.

An odd hollowness descended upon his chest and he was gripped with a feeling similar to when he realized he was deciphering a spell wrong. The feeling that what he was looking at was just... not right. Incorrect. Messed-up.

Wrong.

He took several slow steps forward and attempted to set his glass on a nearby table, but it teetered on the edge and fell to the ground. He paid it no mind.

"Lovely out, isn't it?" a feminine voice stated beside him.

"Always lovely," he muttered, still staring at the two of them. Shaking his head and blinking, he tore his eyes away from the dancers and towards his new companion. Recognition flared and his current discomfort was buried under the resurgence of his spell notes. "Ambassador Inia, I presume?"

She cocked an eyebrow and gave him a closed-lipped smile. "It appears my reputation precedes me."

"Well, it is your party, and you don't exactly blend in with the locals," he said. Feyla's earlier admonishments to "be polite" echoed in his ears like a ghost, but if she wasn't going to be here to help him, then he didn't care enough to try.

To his surprise, she laughed. "No, I suppose I do not. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I do not yet know yours."

"Sedgewick Alverdyne. Minister of--"

"Magic," she cut in, her eyes sparking with interest.

He smirked. "It appears my reputation also precedes me."

Inia chuckled. "I had the pleasure of meeting your assistant earlier this evening. Although, to reference your earlier remark, you don't exactly look like a local either."

"Yes, well, I immigrated here as a young man," he answered, not wishing to elaborate further. The question brought back memories of cutting remarks and criticisms he'd faced regarding his loyalty in the early years of his career.

"I see," she said, sensing she'd stepped into a closed-off area.

The music changed, and a familiar tune drifted into his ears.

He knew this song.

A wave of nostalgia tried to overtake him, but he pushed it aside and snapped his thoughts back to his mission. "Do you dance, Ambassador Inia?"

"It's practically an occupational requirement," she answered.

He held out a hand and placed the other behind his back. "May I?"

She took it and stepped closer. He led her onto the dance floor, suddenly conscious of the fact that the woman was at least an inch taller than him.

Not to mention I haven't done this in years, he thought, as they stepped into the dance. He made a couple of missteps, but Inia took them in stride, and he soon fell back into his old habits.

The music played on as they made small talk. She seemed curious about his work and he answered the questions he could and sidestepped the topic whenever she tried to move the subject outside anything professional. She seemed comfortable with him and utterly unsuspicious.

Time for action.

Sedgewick weaved them through the other couples, passing near Feyla and Beryn. Feyla's eyes widened in surprise and he felt a smug satisfaction over her amazement. Finally, he brought them to a brighter spot illuminated by the lanterns and glowlights. With any luck, it should hide the glow from his magic essence fairly well.

Bringing his memories of his notes to the forefront, he slowly summoned his magic essence. His fingertips tingled, building to a steady buzz as he took advantage of spins and brief separations to perform small twists of his hand as he built up the spell around her. Halfway through the process, small sparks of discomfort began pricking at his spine as he was forced to call upon the magic cushioning his back.

Keep it together, Alverdyne, he chastised as the spell was reaching completion.

Holding up his hand as she spun under it, he attempted to release the tracking spell. Right when it should have attached, he felt his essence shudder, reverberating through him under the strain of trying to channel enough energy. The spell snapped, disintegrating instantly.

The effect was instantaneous. Black spots danced across his vision, and a sharp flare of pain shot through him, concentrating in the hand that had released the spell. He misstepped, barely avoiding tripping to the ground.

Inia's hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder to study him. "Are you all right, Master Alverdyne?" she asked, her voice layered in concern and confusion.

"I-I'm fine," he choked out as he righted himself.

"Perhaps we should sit down."

"No!" he answered, more forcefully than intended.

She blinked her dark eyes, and he watched in horror as a slow suspicion began forming. "You do not appear well. I feel it would be best. Unless you have some other reason for continuing?"

He breathed deeply and released her, moving a hand to his temple in an attempt to appear like he was assessing his all-too-real pain. "Perhaps you are right, Ambassador. Truthfully, I've been feeling a bit under the weather."

The suspicion faded, but the easy comfort from earlier was gone. She led him off the dance floor and towards a bench.

His heart palpitated in time to his slowly building panic. The spell hadn't attached. It hadn't attached and he didn't have nearly enough magic left to attempt it again. Sedgewick broke out into a cold sweat and his mouth went dry. His breathing grew shallow as the panic began to tighten its grip on him.

Everything was falling apart. He wouldn't get the pass from Beryn and then the lord would run off and tell Eleyna and then that man would manipulate her into firing him and he'd be disgraced and useless and alone because Feyla would abandon him and—

"Would you like me to get you something to drink?" asked Inia, breaking him out of his panic as she moved him onto the bench.

He looked up at her and adjusted his glasses in an attempt to discern whether or not they were crooked or his vision was truly blurring. "Yes, thank you."

She returned shortly after with his glass. As he reached forward, he noticed a rather bulky bracelet on her wrist. It was made of some sort of clear blue stone with various seashells embedded in it.

"What an unusual bracelet," he said as he took the glass.

"It was my grandmother's," she said as she sat beside him and ran her other hand across the decorations on it. "She gave it to me when I was a young girl." Inia laughed softly, as if recalling a pleasant memory. "It is something of a good luck charm. I never take it off."

An idea sparked in his brain. He briefly assessed his magic and although his current strength was nowhere near enough to attempt the first spell, there might be just enough...except Beryn didn't want it attached to an object.

Glancing briefly over at Inia's bracelet again, he made his decision.

Beryn won't be able to tell the difference, he reassured himself.

Sedgewick summoned his magic essence and hastily began building the simplest tracking spell he knew. He placed his left hand on the bench beside him, taking advantage of the fact that she couldn't see the twists and twitches he was using. A strain of discomfort was just beginning to build when he stood from the bench, keeping his hand at his side.

"Thank you for your kindness, Ambassador, but I shall not keep you any longer."

She stood as well and smiled warmly. "It was my pleasure. Perhaps we can meet again sometime."

Sedgewick gave a rather strained smile, and then, pulling a page from the book of Beryn, he took her hand and pressed a kiss against her wrist. His fingers brushed across her bracelet and the spell slid on smoothly.

Told her I could handle it, he thought, more than a little relieved.

Inia smirked and looked him over in a manner he wasn't accustomed to women doing, or at least not since he was two hundred and had something vaguely approaching muscle mass. "Intelligent and charming. I can see why your assistant is so fond of you. Goodnight, Master Alverdyne."

She left him alone to ponder what her definition of "charming" was and how that at all applied to Feyla. Sedgewick didn't have long to consider it, however, as a wonderfully familiar perfume filled his nose and a hand gripped his arm.

"There you are. I was beginning to get worried. It looked like you almost fainted. What happened? Did the you-know-what work? Are you okay?" Feyla asked as the words rushed out.

He was going to make a sarcastic remark about how now she decided to run over to him but held it back. The light was shining off her hair and her tawny cheeks were flushed from dancing. She looked quite lovely, objectively speaking of course. Furthermore, Feyla seemed genuinely concerned about him and Sedgewick wasn't altogether ready to insult her back into the arms of Lord Beryn.

"It wasn't quite as smooth as I hoped, but I managed." He slipped his hand into his pocket and handed her a plain gray stone. "Lord Beryn will just place this over a map and it will float to her corresponding location."

"But you're okay," she asked insistently, her big, blue-green eyes still filled with concern.

Normally, he'd be irritated, but after the panic he went through, her worrying over him was almost welcome. Smiling softly, he took her hand. "Yes, Feyla. I'm all right." He saw her shoulders visibly relaxed, but she obviously wasn't completely reassured.

He nodded towards the bench. "Sit with me?" he asked, not quite ready to see the only welcoming face here be swallowed up by the party once again.

She bit her lip and a pained expression crossed her face. "I should probably go give this stone to Beryn. He's been wanting to know what happened and...I promised him one more dance."

He dropped her hand.

"Right. Obviously," he said, his voice short and hard as he turned to go.

"Sedgewick, wait." Feyla grabbed his sleeve, gazing at him with a sort of nervous desperation.

"Yes?"

"I—I didn't know you could dance."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's a skill I seldom wish to employ."

She stepped closer, close enough that if he leaned forward slightly, they would have touched foreheads or even...

He didn't finish the thought, but it lingered all the same, awakening other longings and feelings that he'd buried deep down and left unidentified.

She swallowed and he became fascinated with the movement of her throat and the warm presence of her breath against his cheek.

"Could you show me?" she asked, her hand coming up onto his chest while her eyes never left his.

"What?" he breathed as his gaze traveled back to hers.

"Your dancing, Sedgewick. Dance with me. Please," Feyla whispered.

He nodded yes, barely conscience of what he was agreeing to.

She smiled. It was bright and filled with relief and wonder, sending a warm feeling into his chest. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Meet me at the pavilion."

She rushed off and he felt as if he'd been released from a spell. His stomach twisted as horrifically complicated feelings churned inside him. They were almost overwhelming enough to make him retreat back to Beryn's library and read over simple spell books until the confusion faded and the world made sense again. But something stopped him. She'd looked so...happy. He couldn't just run off and abandon her. An image of Feyla's confused and disappointed face upon realizing he'd left filled his mind. No. He couldn't do that. And besides, he reasoned. It was just one dance.

What was the worst that could happen?

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Author's note: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading! What do you think is going to happen with Sedgewick and Feyla? Don't forget to comment and vote to let me know what you think!

Chapter 14 Excerpt: "I still can't believe you can dance," she said, giving him a playful shove. "You've been holding out on me."