Magic's Minister [COMPLETED]

Chapter Two

Feyla slid open the door leading to the Magic Ministry's small kitchen and stepped inside. The summer sunshine vanished behind the closing door, much like the camaraderie she had shared earlier with Master Alverdyne—because obviously today wasn't a "Sedgewick" day. She inhaled shakily as his harsh words reverberated through her head.

The only concern that you, Miss Everbloom, should have about me is the state of my coffee cup...

Feyla scraped her nail against the infamous mug. Stubborn, rude man. I was only trying to help, she thought, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

"I hope you didn't catch the tail end of his bad mood," Tyrinn Brightworth said, his voice pulling her out of her inner rant. "I might have been the one who put him in it."

Feyla exhaled a shaky breath before plastering a smile on her face. "It's not your fault, Tyrinn." She shrugged. "I'm used to Sedgewick's—to Master Alverdyne's—moods by now."

"Still, I felt bad about that. You put up with too much as it is without dealing with him flying off the handle about a mistake anyone could have made."

Feyla kept smiling and nodding. She'd heard Sedgewick rant about Tyrinn often enough to know that the other mage wouldn't agree with that. Sedgewick had revolutionized the old court mage system, making the new Magic Ministry in the process. Unfortunately, in her opinion, he was now a little too devoted to making every aspect of it run smoothly. Tyrinn had gotten his job due to his father's connections as a former court mage. Sedgewick never forgot that and considered him "An incompetent blot on the paper of my ministry."

"—And I like working at the palace," Tyrinn continued, oblivious to her lack of attention. "But that man..."He shook his light blond head. "I have no idea why he has that job."

Despite her earlier anger at Sedgewick, Feyla couldn't keep her jaw from tightening at Tyrinn's criticisms of him. "He's the best," she said, claiming Sedgewick's certainty as her own. "Queen Eleyna never complains about his work."

"Well, maybe if he appreciated people more, he wouldn't have to rely on the queen's approval alone." Tyrinn leaned against the counter and thrummed his fingers on it, the dusty brown of his skin contrasting the white wood. "I'll never understand how you can stand him."

Feyla pursed her lips. Noticing her reaction, Tyrinn breathed deeply and relaxed his stance."Sorry," he said. "I know you two are close. Although, I never really got why. A woman like yourself could do a lot better than sorting papers and fetching coffee for that ungrateful, self-absorbed, ass—"

"Tyrinn!"

He smiled sheepishly before sticking his thumbs in his outer coat and leaning against the counter next to her. "Sorry again. But you still haven't answered my question."

She bit her lip and stared at the floor. "It's...complicated."

"Only because you let it be."

Feyla's head snapped up. She met his gaze with a hard one of her own. "Sedgewick supported me during a very difficult time in my life. He gave me this job at a point when I felt very...lost." The memories of her last days as a battle healer—the awful mistake she'd made and the oath she'd broken, still made her throat tightened and her spine shiver. Lost was putting it lightly. Truthfully, she'd felt like a woman drowning and adrift from all that had once been solid and certain.

"I don't know what I would have done without him." Feyla blinked, refocusing on the present. "Also, I like it here," she said, forcing her voice to brighten as she faced the counter and began rinsing out the cup. "I have some other very dear friends close by, I'm near exciting people and events, and although Sedgewick can be a bit of a pain, he's a generously-paying pain; I've never wanted for anything." Feyla set the clean mug back on the counter and filled it with coffee. She tasted it to be sure the brew was strong enough before adding the small amount of sugar Sedgewick preferred. "And I know he'd never admit it, but I think he needs someone to look out for him."