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Amelia looked pleased and stood as if her work was done. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she announced as she grabbed the Goldwine bottle and took a swig. Then she pulled Harrington along. “And since I’d do whatever the dark dimensions I please, have fun.” With a wink they walked away and Evren followed, leaving Mira in the gazebo, staring at the dress she would be wearing to a ball with Aidric Dawson.

It’s not a date.

It’s an assignment.

Definitely not a date.

16

The council building was three spheres away, so it required travel through magic gates just like when she had gone from Yharvan to Ivercrest. Coin travel only worked within a sphere, so if you wanted to travel to a different one, you had to go through magic gates. This time, instead of walking, she coin traveled to each gate and was there in minutes. Somewhere in her head she heard Dawson’s voice: See how much easier that was?

She had only ever read about the council building—the center of political power. To the naked eye, the building looked like any other, but once inside, it was a maze of floors and pathways, shielded tightly against coin travel.

When she arrived in the lobby, accessible to the public, she instantly felt the heaviness of all the magic controls around her. People in elegant gowns and tuxes made their way across the marble floor. The vaulted ceilings with scalloped edges were supported by columns of white stone.

After the war, the council building had undergone major renovations to remove all the statues and paintings Mercer had put up of himself. He had turned it into a shrine.

Now, all signs of Mercer’s reign had been meticulously scraped away. No trace was left except for that sinking feeling Mira couldn’t shake. Mercer was dead, but something else was coming. She could feel it, and Obryn had confirmed her suspicions with his own.

At least Casters held the Primemageship for another year, which put her mind at ease a bit. After that, a council member from the Wielder delegation would take over for the next four-year term.

Dawson had said to meet him at the triangle at the center of the ground floor, and it was hard to miss. In the distance she spotted the massive gold triangle floating in a gold circle, representing the two specialties in harmony with each other.

The expertly crafted magic tailoring of Mira’s dress danced along her skin, fitting her like a glove. She couldn’t help but think about Dawson picking it out for her. For a moment it was as if his hands were gliding across her skin instead of the dress, and the thought made her shudder. What’s wrong with you?

Then she spotted Dawson in his tux, his hands in his pockets, and her nerves spiked.

Not a date, she repeated in her head as she walked closer and his eyes connected with hers. It didn’t help that he scanned her entire body in the dress he had provided for her.

At least there was one small victory. Mira had insisted on meeting him at the council rather than having him pick her up.

But victory was fleeting the closer she got to him. Does he have to look this handsome in a tux? Not a date. Not a date.

When she stood in front of him and his eyes traveled down the length of her body again, he opened his mouth. “You look—”

She held up a hand. “None of that. You shouldn’t even have sent me the dress, which is lovely, by the way. This is a pretend date.”

He smirked. “I must not be familiar with the rules of pretend dates.”

Then he held out his arm for her. She stared at him, befuddled for a moment.

“I think, for this to be a believable date, we should have some sort of physical closeness, wouldn’t you agree?”

She sighed, linked her arm through his, and let him lead her. They walked to a man in council uniform, who checked names from a list.

“Aidric Dawson,” he said with authority as if everyone should know his name. Perhaps bow upon hearing it.

The man nodded at the list. “And guest, I see.”

“As is permitted.”

“Of course, sir. Enjoy.”

Then a door next to them opened, and when they stepped through, they arrived in the ballroom. The walls were painted with artwork of landscapes in pastels. A tiered crystal chandelier glittered in soft light. People lined the curved observation balconies on the upper level. Animated chatter traveled across the room, competing with the music from the string quartet. The dance floor was packed, and people moved in unison to the song.

She hadn’t noticed how tightly she was holding Dawson’s arm until they stepped farther inside. Instantly, she loosened her grip, but he either didn’t notice or pretended not to.

Luckily, there would be no dancing as, instead, they planned on breaking into the ingredient library of the most powerful organization in all the spheres.