How galling, to realise that shrewish Venette was right. “I’ve no intention of tumbling anywhere,” he said curtly. “Nor am I in the habit of harming the innocent. Whatever I do, Venette, Maris Garrick will not suffer for it. You have my word.”

“Which I’ll hold you to. Believe me. But Morgan, what about you? My dear—”

“Your dear Morgan can take care of himself. There’s no need to fret. I am not a child.”

“There’s every need,” Venette retorted. “I can’t do nothing as you wantonly chart a course toward self-destruction. Whatever magework you’re pursuing here, Morgan, please, you must stop. Sallis and Shari would love nothing more than to tear you down. Don’t tell me you want to help them!”

For all the difference in their ages, she was his closest friend. But even so he could not trust her with the truth, any more than he could confide in his father. She’d give no credence to his misgivings for Dorana’s future. Not when he had no proof. And, being Venette, for his own good she might easily try to thwart him.

“Of course I don’t want to help them,” he said. “But neither will I live in fear of what they, or any other mage, might say or do.”

Venette sighed. “I’m wasting my breath, aren’t I? You have no intention of heeding me.”

There were tears in her eyes, and on her cheeks. She was weeping for him. No-one else he knew would do that. No-one living, at least.

“You mustn’t think me ungrateful,” he said, his insulted anger doused. “Your friendship means a great deal, Venette. Your advice and guidance too. I might not always do what you wish but I promise you, I listen.”

The look she gave him then was equal parts affection and doubt. “And drive me to distraction. Don’t forget that. Morgan, I would ask you something… and I need an honest answer.”

He felt his muscles tense. “All right.”

“Do you court Maris for yourself, or to please your father?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Both.”

“I thought so,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’ve displeased you.”

“By being honest? Never.” She summoned a smile. “But Morgan, I’d counsel you to give your own feelings the greater weight. To be brutally frank, my dear, you’re the one who’ll have to live with Maris. That is, if you wed her. Your father…”

A different punch to the heart, this time. But there was no use dissembling, not with Venette. “My father won’t. Yes. I know.”

She knew better than to soothe him with platitudes. “Sallis didn’t call the meeting only because of azafris,” she said, her eyes dark with pained sympathy. “There’s trouble brewing at the College. Brice wants you to look into it.”

And that surprised him. “Really?”