This wasn’t what she had expected. She needed to be closer to Lothain. She had expected to be standing at his side. She needed to be close. She needed to be able to touch him.

She wasn’t far. She considered trying to run at him in order to touch him, but Lothain was acting unusually cautious, which was making her suspicious. He had forced her to agree to the marriage. He was well aware that she was not happy about it. She guessed that he might fear that she would try to assassinate him with a knife. But she had no knife on her. There was no place for it in the dress the seamstresses had made for her overnight. Other than her power, she was unarmed.

Lothain wouldn’t know that, though. If she ran toward him, he was likely to fear an attack and use his gift to drop her halfway there. He was so close, but he was far enough away to kill her if he wanted and she would never get her chance.

Magda didn’t know what to do. If she couldn’t touch him, she couldn’t use her power. If she couldn’t use her power, her entire plan was dead.

She had the growing sense that something was very wrong.

Lothain’s smirk seemed to confirm her suspicion.

Chapter 90

Magda did her best to curb her anxiety and tried not to let herself be distracted by worry that her entire plan was unraveling. She reasoned that as the wedding ceremony began, perhaps after Lothain was installed as First Wizard, the council would have to bring the two of them together to be married. That had always been the procedure. She reasoned that it only made sense that he was to be installed as First Wizard before he took his wife. She would just have to be patient.

Still, she had the sense that something wasn’t right.

“Why are you in a white dress?” Lothain asked in a low voice from where he stood watching her from a dozen feet way. It was clear that he was not pleased but he didn’t want the crowd to hear him. “I told you to pick any color but white.”

“This is the day of my rebirth. White is perfect for the occasion.”

When he glanced deliberately from her face to her chest and then back up again, he did not look pleased. She knew that he had ordered the neckline to show ample cleavage.

“It looks awfully plain,” he grumbled. “And . . . modest for such a grand event.”

“Are you more interested in the dress than what is in it, then?”

Lothain’s gaze drifted down the length of her again, at the way the dress was cut to fit her every curve. The sight brought his own private, unreadable thoughts behind his black eyes.