Should she tell him the rest, after all? That Venette Martain had warned her off as an interloper? Saw her as an obstacle in her plans for the councillor’s wedding?

By all means, if I want to make yet another sworn enemy.

Another shrug. “It was a general scolding, sir. Lady Martain took me to task for my wickedness.”

For a moment she thought he didn’t believe her. Eyes chilly he stared at her, thoughts and suspicions seething. Then he nodded.

“Lady Martain is strict. Your conduct has offended her.”

“But not you, sir?”

His eyes were winter cold now. “Oh, I am offended. Don’t mistake compassion for complicity in your crime.”

“My crime?” She felt the word like a slap from a hard, open hand. “I thought—”

“But you don’t think, Mage Lindin, do you? You act on impulse, born of rampant emotion. Which is one reason I’ve brought you here, so you can meditate upon your poor behaviour.”

Her poor behaviour? But she was the injured party. Could he really not see that? And if he couldn’t, then why had he saved her?

“Remarkable,” the councillor said, still staring. “You hold yourself blameless.”

Barl felt her face scald with heat. “I hold myself provoked, sir.”

“But not responsible in any way?”

“I didn’t say that,” she muttered. “It’s true I’m bound here, your prisoner, because I lost my temper with Lord Hahren. But if there was equity amongst the mages of Dorana, if the First Families weren’t so greedy and selfish, then I never would have argued with him.”

“I see,” the councillor said, musing. “So I’m greedy and selfish.”

“No! At least—” He was right, curse it. She was stupidly impulsive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“And yet you were. Again. Rude and ungrateful.” He stepped back. “Be about your assigned tasks, Mage Lindin. Rumm is not a man you wish to aggravate.”

Rumm was a servant, not much better than herself. But so long as the councillor granted him the authority to order her about, she’d be foolish indeed to needlessly antagonise him.

“Yes, sir,” she said, picking up the abandoned pail. With a curt nod he turned on his heel and walked away. She watched him, just for a moment, torn between resentment and a reluctant admiration of his lithe, easy gait. Then she snorted. “Don’t be a spoggin, Barl. Let an appealing arse distract you, and you’ll be a sight sorrier than you already are.”

“She’s trouble, that girl,” said Lord Danfey. “You want my advice, you’ll get rid of her.”

It was tempting, but Morgan knew better than to point out that his father’s advice was both unwanted and unnecessary. Instead, he pulled back the heavy curtains from the parlour’s main window.

“The binding has unsettled her. But of course, if she upset you, my lord, I do apologise.”