Stepping into the Danfey family crypt, he summoned glimfire. Light and shadow played over smooth walls and flagstoned floor and Luzena’s tomb, where she slept instead of in his bed. She had been his chosen wife so he’d claimed the privilege, fiercely. Her family of course had not prevailed against him.

No-one prevailed against him, once his mind was made up.

He stood beside her, his lost love, aching with loss, as his conjured glimfire played over her smooth marble face.

“You understand, Luzena? Don’t you? Where else could the girl go where she’d not be abused? A judiciary would’ve kept her penned like an animal. And with my binding incant on her, how could I allow that? Knowing that she suffered, that I was the cause, and knowing too there’d be scant kindness offered? As for buffeting Hahren—” He had to smile. “I’ve often wanted to buffet him myself. But if ever desire did outrun prudence, my Council rank would protect me. Should Barl Lindin be left vulnerable, for no better reason than she’s unranked? She made a mistake. There’s no shame in showing her mercy.”

Luzena had been tenderhearted, moved to tears by the smallest plight of the least important Doranen mage. For that alone he’d loved her. This foolish young woman from Batava would have stirred her to pity, of that he had no doubt.

“If you were still by my side, where you belong, you’d have insisted that I bring her here. I know it.”

Cold hands framing her cold face, he kissed Luzena’s gently parted lips. Her throat. The swell of her sweet breasts. Their warmth had been denied him for the rest of his life. Now all he had was their cold stone comfort.

“My love… my love. How I miss you.”

His fingers caressed the curving lines of her face. Her nose had been the tiniest bit crooked. The imperfection had only made her more perfect. Maris Garrick’s nose was perfect, her entire beauty beyond dispute. Only he wanted, needed, more than beauty. And Maris Garrick did not have it.

But what do my needs matter? I have a duty, I made a promise, and that must override all.

He kissed Luzena again, hard enough to bruise lips against teeth. “Dear one, I can see no way of rebuffing Maris Garrick. In every respect counted important she is, without question, a suitable match.”

Snatching the locket from beneath his tunic, he wrenched it open. His love’s painted face smiled back at him, somehow more real, more Luzena, than the exquisite marble woman laid out before him.

“Please, my love, I beg you. Forgive me this betrayal. When I bed Maris Garrick there will be no pleasure in it.”