The desk dwarfed the blond woman sitting behind it. She wrinkled her nose in disdain, but waved us toward the far door, saying, “She’s expecting you.”

I turned to my guard. “I thought you said I was being questioned by the First Adviser.”

“This is the FA’s office,” he said. “All our officials have offices befitting their stations.”

I suppressed a whistle. If this was the FA’s, what did Councilor Moon’s look like?

The interior office was as ornate as the reception area and twice as big. In the far right corner loomed another expansive desk and another woman. She faced the large windows with her back to us. Sunlight highlighted her straight black hair and a feeling of familiarity tugged deep within me.

Stained-glass sun catchers refracted the sunlight, causing bright pinpricks of color to dot the walls and ceiling. Distinct glass vases decorated her neat desk.

“Gressa,” I said.

Ulrick’s sister turned around. Her resemblance to Ulrick was uncanny. Her long, graceful limbs, strong jaw, prominent cheekbones and eyes the color of grass on a sunny day matched his. Except this time, instead of being drawn to her because of the similarity, I was wary. Since Devlen switched bodies, seeing even a likeness of Ulrick’s face triggered a flinch.

She studied me with a cold, unwelcoming expression for a moment, then gestured toward a chair. “Sit down.”

I perched on the edge of an overstuffed maroon chair. She dismissed the guards to wait in the outer office without ordering them to unlock the manacles binding my wrists. At least she could have told them to remove my cloak. I sweated in the warm room.

Gressa picked up a glass letter opener and tapped it on her desk. “Why did you break into my factory?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“You could have sent me a message.”

“I thought you might be in hiding.”

“Really?” Her thin arched eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Why?”

“Because of making the fake diamonds and helping the Councilor’s sister.”

“Oh, that.” She waved her hand in the air as if her past was as insignificant as the dust motes floating in the sunlight. “Obviously, it worked out. I offered my services and my knowledge of Akako’s plans to Councilor Moon. After Akako was arrested, the Councilor offered me a position on her staff.”

“Akako?”

Gressa sighed with dramatics. “The Councilor’s sister.”

That explained why Yelena and Irys left Fulgor, but didn’t address the tension and worry emanating from the town’s citizens. Perhaps it was due to Gressa being the First Adviser—the second most powerful position in the Clan. No doubt she would use her status for her own advantage.

She played with the letter opener. The clear glass handle tapered to a thin, flat blade. The edge had been sharpened with a grinding wheel. “What was so important you wouldn’t take no as an answer, scaring my workers?”

“It’s about Ulrick.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but her demeanor turned colder. “Were you planning to explain why you had him arrested?”

“Yes, and to explain about…” How best to state the situation? I considered my words with care. “Ulrick has been tricked—”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Of course. He’s been tricked into falling in love with you. And now you’re claiming he’s really someone else. Oh, please.” She jabbed the letter opener into the air. “You have no proof.”

I closed my mouth. I knew this would be difficult, but I hadn’t expected such hostility. “Have you talked to the Council?”

“Yes. They said you’ve disobeyed direct orders, and I should send you to the Citadel in chains if I have to.”

“Have you communicated with Master Cowan?”

She leaned forward. “At length. Even she is doubtful.”

Icy tendrils wrapped around my heart. Goose bumps prickled my sweaty skin. “But Janco and Kade can vouch for me.”

“An Ixian and a missing Stormdancer?” She laughed. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Kade’s not missing. He stayed behind to calm the blizzards for the Ixians.”

“Are you talking about the same Ixians whose Commander murders magicians, and has declared using magic within his territory illegal and punishable by death? Do you know how ridiculous your story sounds? Are you delusional?”

I drew in a breath. “Talk to Ulrick. Ask him to blow you a vase. Devlen may have read Ulrick’s memories, but he can’t duplicate the skill learned from years of working with molten glass. You grew up with him. Spend an hour with him and you’ll know he’s not your brother.”

“There you go, Opal. Now you’re thinking rationally. Except for one thing.”

By the wicked delight flaming in her eyes, I knew this wouldn’t go my way.

“I already had a long conversation with my brother. Your claims are a complete fabrication.”

I hated it when I was right.

My guards escorted me to a “guest” room in the Councilor’s Hall. With no windows, a small bed and one chair, the room felt tighter than my cell. The door closed behind me with a thump and the lock clicked shut, casting me into darkness. At least the guards had removed my manacles. I rubbed my sore wrists, then felt for the bed. My eyes adjusted as I lay there. Weak candlelight flickered through the cracks around the door.