Feyla Everbloom believed there were few disagreements in life that couldn't be fixed with a kind word and a willingness to understand others. Unfortunately, the mage she was courting thought otherwise.

Feyla's blue-green eyes widened, a breath choking her throat as Lord Faren of Endingwood reared back and decked her Sedgewick in the face. An ill-sounding crack reverberated through the palace's side courtyard as Sedgewick's round-rimmed glasses shattered, sending pieces bouncing off the sand-colored stone and plopping into the nearby fountain. He smacked the ground, blood from his busted lip mixing with the blood from where the glass had cut him. Sedgewick grabbed the wide brim of his pointed mage's hat off the ground and put it back on his head. He wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of his too-big orange coat. "I think you're losing your touch, Endingwood. That was much gentler than I remember."

Oh, he's going to pay for this, Feyla thought, dropping the books she'd been bringing from the palace library to the Magic Ministry and dashing toward her suitor. And Endingwood better not make him pay for it first.

Lord Faren grabbed Sedgewick by his coat and jerked him from the ground. Sedgewick's feet dangled as the much-taller man shook him until his busted glasses fell off. He dropped her suitor and reared back another fist to reassure Sedgewick Alverdyne that he still hit as good as he used to.

Feyla flung herself in between the two men. She pushed Sedgewick back while waving her other arm frantically. "Stop!" Feyla swallowed as she stared up at the over six foot Lord Faren. "Let's—let's just stop and calm down." She grit her teeth and pushed down on Sedgewick's shoulder as he rose up to his much shorter height.

Lord Faren dropped his fist, still keeping it clenched. "This isn't your fight, healer."

"Ex healer," Feyla snapped, an edge creeping past her persuasive tone. "And I really don't think the queen will like it if she finds out you're beating up her Minister of Magic."

Sedgewick snorted behind her and Feyla's long pointed ears twitched. "Oh, please. Give me a few more minutes and I would have—"

Feyla shot Sedgewick a glare. It silenced him better than a numbing potion. "I know Sedgewick isn't the most sensitive person, but... You got your hit in so why don't we all just take a step back and talk this out like adults."

Lord Faren stared at her the way she'd seen him look at his daughter's dog; like she was yappy and annoying with no substance. "Go pick up your books, little assistant." He tried to brush her aside. Feyla stuck her feet to the ground and blocked his hand.

"We're not. Fighting. In the courtyard."

The lord grumbled in the back of his throat. "Alverdyne! Are you going to hide behind your office decoration or deal with this like a man?"

Sedgewick growled behind her. Feyla refused to let her ears tilt back and savor the sound. "Demean her again and I will beat an apology out of you."

Lord Faren cracked his knuckles. A nervous laugh escaped Feyla's lips at the sight of his tensing arm muscles. "You do have your uses," he said like Sedgewick had given him an idea. "That's just what I'm going to do."

Lord Faren roughly shoved her aside. Feyla stumbled back, nearly tripping over a wooden bucket a servant had forgotten by the fountain.

"I'm still waiting for that apology, Endingwood." Sedgewick smirked, his feet spreading apart as the familiar orange glow of his magic encircled his left hand.

Feyla's shoulder's tightened while she gave Sedgewick a look that she knew he couldn't misinterpret. Seriously? The man was twice his size!

Sedgewick smirked at her in turn, letting her know what he thought just as well as if he'd said it. Yes, I'm egging him on, but I've been very well-behaved lately and we both know you find my smugness adorable.

Stupid mage.

Lord Faren reared his fist back again. Images of Sedgewick reeling back in pain flashed across her mind's eye. No. She could fix this.

Feyla's old instincts took over. She launched herself up onto the stone fountain's side and twisted around, jabbing the lord in the neck with just the right amount of pressure. His eyes rolled back as he crumpled.

...And crashed face-first into the abandoned bucket Sedgewick had levitated in front of his fist seconds before.

Feyla lurched forward and snagged the sleeves of the over-sized lord. Her muscles clenched as she struggled to keep him from toppling to the ground. Feyla's arms burned, punishing her for letting them sink into atrophy. "Help me! He's going to bust his head open," she groaned at Sedgewick.

Sedgewick dismissed the spell crushing the bucket into the lord's face and let the man flop against him. He grunted under the weight. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Feyla scrambled off the fountain. She kicked the abandoned bucket aside and grabbed the other half of Lord Faren. Together, they slowly lowered the man onto the ground beside the fountain. Feyla let out a puff of air and wiped the sweat off her tawny-brown hands on the ends of the sash tied at the front of her waist. "A bucket?"

"Well, I couldn't exactly throw a fireball in his face. No matter how much he deserved it." Sedgewick kicked his foot against the unconscious lord. The small scar on his bottom lip dipped out of sight as his mouth thinned into a scowl. "He would have hit the bucket and blistered his hand. Then I could have gotten him off balance and watched him fall like a rotten tree." Sedgewick chuckled. "Although, I did still get to see that. It's been quite a while since I've seen you pull out that maneuver."

Feyla bit her lip. It had been a long time since she'd used any of her old battle healer training. But definitely not long enough.

Sedgewick draped his arm over her shoulders and squeezed. "Don't fret, Dearest. I personally find it rather comforting that you can still defend yourself."

Feyla fought back a grin. His words might sound sweet but his tone was teasing. "And you. For someone who worries about me so much, I sure do end up saving you a lot."

Sedgewick's lip popped out again. "I wouldn't say that."

Feyla began counting on her fingers. "The time with Tyrinn, the time with Crayden, the time when that sorceress had you chained up—"

"Technically, those all happened within a similar window of time, so really, they should be grouped into one."

Feyla rolled her eyes. "It's a good thing you're adorable."

"I'm not adorable," he muttered out of habit.

Feyla eyed the cut on his cheek and the bruise developing on his eye. "Maybe not when you look like a piece of butcher's meat. Why would you pick a fight with him?"

Sedgewick let out a puff of air through his bloody nose. "You should be proud of me, Dearest. It was your honor I was defending."

Feyla gasped dramatically and pressed her hands against her chest. "My honor? Be still, my beating heart! How did you know that was the only thing I found irresistible?"

Sedgewick's eyes narrowed. "You're mocking me."

"You can't go through life fighting everyone."

"And you can't go through life trying to keep everyone pacified." He moved to push his absent glasses up out of habit and ended up squinting at his hand.

Feyla waved his words away. "Who else is going to keep you from getting pounded on?"

"Well, some people are worth the fight." Sedgewick stared at her, the warmth in his eyes making their normal amber even brighter than usual.

Feyla's shoulders dropped. She couldn't argue with him when he was looking at her like that. "Let's go back to the Magic Ministry. I'll fix you."

"And here I thought you liked me the way I am." Sedgewick smiled in good humor despite the broken glasses and swollen eye.

She restrained from rolling her eyes. Sedgewick probably couldn't see it without his glasses anyway. His eyesight was terrible. "What about Lord Endingwood?"

Sedgewick took her arm and flicked his wrist with his other hand. The books Feyla had dropped earlier circled around their heads, an orange light coating them. "Let the man alone. It would hurt his pride more if you babied him after his defeat. He should be waking up shortly, correct?"

Feyla pulled away and moved the lord's arm under his head. The ground could be hard on one's neck. "Yes. It's only meant to subdue someone temporarily. And if you're sure..."

"Trust me, Dearest. I've been dealing with the lords a long time. And besides, the man should have known better than to pick a fight with you."

Feyla plucked the floating books out of the air and propped them against one of her curvy hips. "Because I'm a former battle healer?"

"No." He crossed his arms behind his back and leaned closer. "Because you're Feyla Everbloom. If you can't smooth out a fight, then you always make sure to win it."

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Author's Note: And here it is! The first chapter in the long-awaited sequel, published just a couple weeks shy of the day Magic's Minister ended. Hope everyone enjoys this story as much as the last one!