“No, Rumm. It was something. And it won’t be forgotten.” He turned back to the window. “Now I’d like a little time alone. See to the servants, and then… do whatever it is that you do.”

“My lord,” said Rumm. “Shall you and Mage Lindin be wanting breakfast?”

“Barl will, most likely. For myself…”

The thought of food had bile rising to burn his throat.

“My lord,” Rumm murmured, perfectly deferential, and withdrew.

In silence, for some time, Morgan continued to stare out of the window at the woodland, and distant Elvado. It was disturbing, knowing his father was behind him… and hearing only himself breathe.

But he is dead. He is dead. And I must become accustomed.

As he stood there, gazing at the estate that was now his, the pale morning light grew stronger and deeper. At last he stirred, and turned to the bed with its silent, stiffening burden.

“I’d have you understand this, my lord. I don’t abandon Maris Garrick to spite you. I do not love her. I never did. And love matters to me. I know you thought me weak and foolish for that. You thought it was my mother’s taint and so you did your best to rid me of it. You failed, my lord… and for that I am most grateful. If I dropped dead beside you now, in this moment, I would die a happier man for one night in Barl Lindin’s arms than you ever were in the whole of your life.”

And having said that, he walked out.

He found Barl in the library, dressed in her faded, favourite blue linens and deep in perusal of Thimbole’s Examination of an Incant. Hearing his footfalls on the parquetry she looked up. Her eyes were shadowed, and grave.

His heart thumped, remembering. “Are you sorry?”

“No,” she said. “Are you?”

“No.”

She lowered the book to her lap, slowly. “And what about Maris?”

He closed the library door. “Maris who?”

“Morgan…” Her lips curved into a faint, kissable smile. “Do you mean that?”

He didn’t smile back. This was too important. “My father wanted Maris. I make my own choices now. Barl, I choose you. I chose you, last night.”

Her fingertip smoothed the edge of one page. “And I chose you, Morgan. But this is a new day. And before I choose you again, for good, I’d have something clear between us. I want no more secrets. No more half-truths. No more answers that aren’t answers. Morgan, we transmuted a living creature. Everything is different now. And if you want me to follow you any further down this path, you’ll tell me why we did that. Or you’ll walk it alone.”

Step by step he closed the distance between them, and when he reached the chair he dropped to his knees.

“Barl, do you trust me?”