Glimfire in close quarters was warming, but still he shivered. Kind shadows hid the chamber’s other occupants, but the crypt was a house of death and it pressed down on him, smothering.

Father will sleep here soon. With all my mage powers I can’t save him. Ranmer with his pills and potions, he can’t save him either. Before the year dies I will be Lord Danfey.

The thought broke him, and he sobbed without restraint on Luzena’s unyielding breast… but only for a moment. Such displays of emotion did not become a Danfey or a member of Dorana’s Council of Mages. He’d not wept since he lost his beloved, and on that terrible day, when he sought to abandon himself to wild grief, his father had struck him.

“Disgrace me, would you?” he’d demanded. “Wipe your face, Morgan. You’re not a woman, to drown yourself in tears!”

Now, as then, he blotted his eyes dry. Stepped back from Luzena’s coffin, his heart pounding, and breathed deep until it slowed.

“You are dead, Luzena, but I yet live. And so long as I live, I must do my duty.”

Glimlight danced across her peaceful stone brow, her cheeks, her lips. He stepped back again, because he wanted to climb onto the coffin beside her and imagine himself safe and loved in her arms.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered, and left her alone in the dark.

Rumm practically pounced on him as he entered the mansion. “Sir! Thank goodness!”

“What is it?” he said, fighting a fresh wave of dread. “Lord Danfey? Why did you not—”

“Sir, sir, please, there’s no crisis,” Rumm said swiftly. “But his lordship is restless. In truth, sir, he’s been kicking up a right dust. I know you told him you were out to dinner this evening but—” The master servant swallowed hard. “Sir, he’s having some trouble recalling it.”

“I see.” Morgan gave Rumm a curt nod. “Very well.”

He took the stairs two at a time, his palms suddenly sweaty. Ranmer had warned that his father’s lucidity would likely wax and wane. But he’d been himself for such a goodly time, he’d begun to hope—

“Morgan!” his father croaked, as he entered the fire-warmed chamber. “At last. What’s kept you so late?”

Late? Even with that Council business, it was only a whisper past nine. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he said, taking the chair beside the bed. “I did not mean to cause concern.”

Hectic colour burned in his father’s face. His eyes glittered, overbright. “Ha! Dallied at dinner, did you? So the Garrick girl’s truly to your liking?”

Luzena. “She is most… suitable.”

“Then best you snap her up, Morgan, before some other wifeless mage gets wind of her.”

“Yes,” he said, subdued. “Doubtless that would be wise.”

“And yet you sound doubtful,” his father said, accusing. “What nonsense is this?”