Morgan felt his throat tighten. “My lord, you have me at a loss. What is it that prompts these wild accusations? Why would you even—”

“I might be dying, Morgan, but I’m not dead yet. No, and I’m not blind either. You were thinking of someone, I could see her in your face!” His father’s head fell back against the tumble of pillows. “Oh, what a son I have. What a glorious son!”

So, in letting his thoughts drift too close to his surface, he’d betrayed himself. He breathed out, suddenly cautious.

“My lord, I promise you I wasn’t—” But that wouldn’t do. Not only would his father never believe him, he couldn’t lie to him in cold blood. Not now. Not when—“Forgive me, sir, but I think we speak at cross purposes.” He returned to his chair beside the high bed. “You are right, after a fashion. I was thinking of an unranked mage. But she’s Council business. Naught to do with my marriage though I would discuss her with you.”

His father was frowning. “I see.”

Smiling again, though his face felt frozen, he took his father’s thin, gnarled hands in his. “My lord, it breaks my heart that we find ourselves so at odds over my marriage, which should be a cause for celebration. If I’ve grieved you, if I’ve been selfish, I’m sorry.”

“Morgan…” His father sighed. “This habit you have of harking back to Luzena Talth, measuring all other women against her. It doesn’t help.”

He strove to keep his voice mild. “To me it seems only natural that I would—”

“But that’s my point!” his father said, snappish. “It’s not natural. Morgan, you have a disposition that will not let go of the past. I am only trying to protect you from that.”

In other words, forget Luzena ever lived. Forget that I loved her. Do you know me so imperfectly, sir? Is that the kind of man you think I am?

Yes, and yes. But they had argued around and around this point, never once reaching an amicable understanding, and it was clear to him now that they likely never would. So either they could continue to argue, and make their remaining time together a misery, or…

Morgan tightened his fingers on his father’s frail hand. “Perhaps I do dwell too much on Luzena. I shall—I shall—” The words stuck in his throat, threatening to claw his flesh bloody. “To please you, I shall put her from my mind.”

“Shall you?” said his father, closely watching him. “Good. I’ll help.”

And with a snatch and a twist, more swiftly than his feeble strength should allow, his father tugged Luzena’s locket, snapping the chain, and threw the golden treasure into the fire.