She almost said none. But then she sighed. Her life was already in his hands. Too late now to turn back. “Only one. Baret Ventin’s. When I saved Arndel’s artisanry.”

“But for all you know,” he said slowly, “you can override any incant. And if that’s true there’s not a mage in Dorana who’s safe.”

“You mean from me?” she said, shocked. “But I would never—Councillor Danfey, I wouldn’t. And I’ll prove it. Bind me again.”

His laugh was derisive. “When you can snap your fingers and unbind yourself on a whim?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“And why should I believe you?”

She stepped closer, beseeching. “Because I’m not lying! Can’t you tell?”

He looked at her oddly, then. “And what of your brother?”

Remmie? Why would he—

Oh. Oh, no.

She stepped back. “Leave Remmie out of this.”

“How can I? He’s your twin.”

“I never told you that!”

“You didn’t have to. I met him, remember?”

“It doesn’t matter we’re twins,” she said, feeling so sick. “Councillor Danfey, he knows nothing about this. And he’s nothing like me.”

“And what if you’re wrong? What if your brother possesses this same inconvenient quirk of talent? Have you any idea what—”

“You can’t lift your hand to him!” She wanted to scream. “Remmie’s done nothing wrong, he’s broken no law! If you persecute him for no better reason than he’s my brother, I’ll—I’ll—”

Morgan Danfey raised an eyebrow. “You’ll do what, Mage Lindin?”

She had to blink and blink to defeat the stinging tears. “I’ll never forgive you.”

He stilled so completely she could believe she’d turned him to stone.

“If you don’t want me here, Councillor, I’ll understand,” she said, when he remained silent. “You can send me away. Send me back to the Hall or give me to Lord Arkley for guarding. I don’t care. I don’t. Only please, don’t hurt Remmie.”

Morgan Danfey breathed out a shuddering sigh. “And I’m to accept your word, unproven, that he’ll never use magic against another mage? That you won’t, even though you’ve already done so?”

“Yes.”

“How can I?”

She shrugged. “Because I won’t.”

“Mage Lindin…” He sighed again, so harshly it was almost a groan. “You seek to make this simple. But you are a complication the likes of which I’ve never known.”

And if she was, she’d never wanted it. All she’d ever wanted was to be left alone to pursue her magework, and be fairly recognised for her achievements. Why was that so unreasonable? Why did she seem fated to encounter nothing but jealousy and meanness and people who would not rest until she was humbled in the dust?