“Not in there. Brice is huddled with Sallis and Shari.” She beckoned impatiently. “Step out to a balcony with me.”

She sounded as disapproving as Rumm. Even her attire was severe today, midnight brocade cut and stitched without embellishment. She wore her short golden hair slicked close, and her earrings were restrained rondels of striped moss agate.

Immediately wary, and not pleased by her tone, Morgan allowed her to hustle him out onto one of the Hall’s sixteenth floor balconies overlooking the plaza. The fountain’s leaping water dazzled in the sunlight, its frivolous mosaic designs a blur so far below. Elvado’s bustle was muted up here, distance lending it dignity, the silence a solemnity. The stirring air was cool and clean, caressing his face like a lover.

“I did not look to see you here, Venette,” he said, making sure to keep his own voice friendly. “Don’t tell me you tired of the Garricks’ hospitality.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, oblivious to Elvado’s beauty. “I’ve come back early for Maris. Morgan, how could you of all people be so crude and clumsy? I wouldn’t have believed it had she not shown me your note. Stars above, my dear fool, whatever were you thinking?”

“For one thing, that my correspondence with Maris is private.”

Venette flung up her hands, as though beseeching patience from a Trindeki god. “Trust me, Morgan, I heartily wish it was! Then I’d not be subjected to floods of tears and grief-stricken prostrations! Have you no imagination? Did you not consider for even a moment how such a careless missive would be received?”

He had no desire for this conversation. He was tired, and more than tired, of Venette’s meddling in his life. Glancing sideways, he tried to catch a glimpse through the Council chamber’s window but the balcony was too far away.

“Tell me, why do Sallis and Shari huddle with Lord Varen?”

Arms folded, one hip leaning against the balcony balustrade, heedless of the sheer drop, Venette rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

He needed only one. “My pending patents. Lord Arkley’s stirring trouble?”

“Did you think Sallis wouldn’t use your absence to make mischief? I told you it was a mistake to threaten him, my dear.”

“Then why aren’t you huddled with them, Venette? You have a say in the matter of patents.”

Venette poked his arm. “Brice is well aware of my opinion on the matter. There’s nothing more that I can add that won’t harm your case instead of help it. Now stop changing the subject. I will have this out with you, Morgan. You left the house party because of your father. But if you’re here for a humdrum Council meeting that means he’s not at death’s door. So why do you not return to the country to be with your bride?”

“She is not my bride yet.”