“No. You’re invaluable. But I want the other servants released from their duties. Not permanently, although if they’d prefer that they are free to leave my employ. Otherwise send them home, to be called back in due course.”

“My lord,” said Rumm, severely noncommittal.

“You shouldn’t be overburdened with work. There will only be myself and Mage Lindin to care for. And much of the time, we’ll take care of ourselves.” Despite the pain, despite his dead father on the bed before him, Morgan smiled. “I hope you know which end of a stable fork to use.”

Rumm’s eyes widened, as close to a shout of surprise as he would come. “As it happens, my lord, I do. And, if I might ask, should I also prepare for the arrival of Mage Garrick?”

Maris.

There was no point trying to hide the truth from Rumm. “My courtship of Maris Garrick is ended. My affections have been engaged elsewhere.”

“My lord.” Rumm’s gaze flicked ceilingward. “Yes, my lord.”

He felt himself tense. “You disapprove?”

“My lord, it is hardly my place to approve or disapprove,” said Rumm. “But since you have broached the subject, I will say that it’s clear Mage Lindin makes you happy.”

The man was astonishing. “Yes. She does. Rumm, tell the servants they’re not to speak of his lordship. If anyone asks, they’re to say he rests comfortably. We will crypt him ourselves, tonight, in private.”

“My lord.”

“It is out of the ordinary, I know,” he said, hearing Rumm’s unspoken disapproval. “But I have my reasons. And if you wish to remain here, you’ll not question them. Understood?”

Rumm bowed. “My lord.”

Unable to bear the sight of his father’s corpse any longer, Morgan crossed to the window and drew back its curtain.

“You must also know this, Rumm. Mage Lindin and I are engaged in magework crucial to the benefit and safety of Dorana. Some of this work is not, strictly speaking, sanctioned. You may see things, or hear things, that strike you as odd. If you feel unable to—”

“My lord,” said Rumm, “say no more. I know you would die to protect Dorana, and that is all the explanation I need.”

A sting of tears. He blinked them away. “This mageworking means that, from time to time, I will be relying on you to assist me in obtaining what some might call… dubious supplies. Does—”

“My lord.”

This time Rumm sounded pained. “I don’t intend to take you for granted!” Morgan said, then looked over his shoulder. “Speaking of supplies, Mage Lindin says you helped her with the creation of my father’s funeral clock.”

Rumm looked down. “It was nothing, my lord.”