“We’re only staying one night, right?” I asked as we drove along the paved streets, heading toward the Capitol Dome, which was on the west side of town. Beyond the curtains, the city rolled past—much less crowded at this late hour than the bustling city I remembered from my last visit, but still imposing and well lit. It was far later than one would generally expect to conduct a political meeting after traveling across the country. But as Iannis had told me more than once, this was an urgent mission, and holding a high office meant working long and irregular hours.

“We’ll leave the moment we are done,” Iannis assured me. “Of course, you understand that things can change, and if the Minister wants us to stay longer, we can hardly refuse.”

“Indeed.” I pressed my lips together as I thought of Zavian Graning, the Minister of the Northia Federation. Iannis and I had saved him from almost certain death the last time we were here. If not for my sleuthing skills and Iannis’s healing talents, he would be rotting in his grave. That didn’t mean I particularly liked Graning, or approved of his politics as the highest mage in the country. After all, he didn’t seem too friendly toward shifters, judging by the fact that there seemed to be none in Dara. Then again, a nice and straightforward mage would hardly have been able to climb to such a powerful position.

The Benefactor had been the master manipulator behind the plot against the Minister—I was sure of it, even though she still hadn’t admitted to the crime. Or any crime, in fact. If Cedris ar’Tarea, her would-be puppet, had managed to take power, Thorgana would have pulled his strings behind the scenes until the entire Federation came toppling down. I shuddered as I remembered just how close we had come to losing everything at the Convention. As bad as things still were, they could have turned out much, much worse.

The carriage rolled to a stop outside the Capitol Dome, and a footman opened the door for us. Iannis disembarked, then helped me down from the carriage. I managed to remember to take his hand and let him guide me instead of jumping down with my skirts flying everywhere. A damn good thing, too, because all eyes were glued on us. Given the late hour, there were a surprising number of mages about, on the steps and the grass, clustered in pairs or trios as they talked about politics, or perhaps which blend of tea their secretaries brewed for them, but whatever they discussed seemed quickly forgotten at the sight of Iannis and me.

Or maybe it was just me.