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Mira swallowed, trying to keep tears from falling.

“I think it’s best if you focus on your own problems from now on,” he said, and when she gave a silent nod, he walked away.

Raindrops hit her as she watched his tall figure disappear in the distance. For some reason, it was difficult to breathe. A shield appeared above her head.

She turned and saw Ella running toward her with a shield of her own.

“Are you trying to catch a cold?” Ella asked when she reached her. “What are you doing standing in the rain?”

“I was just thinking about my potion.”

“In the rain? Spheres have mercy. Let’s get you inside.”

They stepped into the covered walkway and Ella dropped the shields above their heads. Aside from a group of five Wielders, everyone had gone back inside.

“I was just about to send you a scroll,” Ella said. “Do you have a dress already?”

“A dress for what?”

“The Inaugural Ball. It’s tomorrow.”

Not another ball. Unfortunately, it was that time of year, close to the solstice, when everyone hosted them. “I think I’ve had my fair share of formal dances.”

“You have to come,” Ella insisted as the rain continued to prattle on. “Literally. It’s mandatory.”

“No, it’s not.” The thought of having to attend a ball at Ivercrest made her insides twist.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I don’t even have a date.” Mira hoped that would be reason enough not to attend.

“Oh. I assumed you would bring Dawson.”

“No. It was just…we’re just friends.”

They weren’t even that. They were simply two people who knew too much about each other’s wounds.

“It didn’t look like just friends to me when you were in Oliver’s office.”

That evening seemed forever ago. “It was only the heat of the moment. Won’t happen again.”

Ella twisted her mouth into a frown. “That’s a shame.”

“Are you going with Oliver?”

She nodded. “I really like him. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Honestly, since the war, I’ve been so focused on work and getting into Ivercrest, I had no capacity to even think about men.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“You still need a date for the ball. What about Sebastian Morgan?”

“Who?”

“You met him at the bonfire. He shielded you from a spilled drink. He’s been asking about you ever since.”

The last thing Mira wanted was to be set up with someone. If she had to attend this stupid ball, she would stand close to the bar, get drunk on Goldwine, and wait until it was permissible to leave.

“Sebastian is a super-talented healer, and he’s funny,” Ella continued. “What do you have to lose?”