“Dry your eyes, my dear, and catch your breath. You’re upset, it’s only natural, but I think you’ll agree that Lord Danfey won’t let Morgan do anything so crass as spurn you. I’ve known Greve most of my life, and while he might be unwell at present I can promise you he won’t—what?”

Maris was staring again, her mouth almost comically open. “You don’t know?”

Another shiver of dread. “Know what?”

“The old man’s dead, Venette. Morgan is Lord Danfey now.”

The old man’s dead.

She sat there, unmoving, not sure of what she felt. Shock, yes. Grief. Of course. But most of all she felt a fresh wave of searing anger.

How could you not tell me, Morgan? How could you let me find out like this?

“No,” she said, hearing her voice oddly distant. Detached, as though she’d never even met Greve Danfey. “I hadn’t heard.”

“He hasn’t told anyone,” said Maris, sneering. “He’s been too busy fucking his whore. Venette, I’d be surprised if his father is even crypted.”

She shook her head. “No. No. Not even Morgan at his most careless would leave his father to rot.”

Maris sneered again, trembling fingers twisting and untwisting the damp handkerchief. And then her sickly pale face crumpled. “Oh, Venette. What shall I do?”

“Go home,” she said, wincing as a vicious pain stabbed behind her eyes. “And stay there. Tell your parents what’s happened, and then tell them they must speak to me before they say or do anything.” She raised a warning finger. “I can salvage your pride, Maris. I can, with some wrangling, undo the damage Morgan has wrought. But only if you and your parents hold your tongues. Discretion is vital. Is that clear?”

Breathing quickly, Maris wrestled with that dictate. At last she nodded. “But I want him punished, Venette. If he walks away from this unbruised, if he is allowed to insult the Garricks in such a fashion and pay no price, then I swear you’ll see ramifications the likes of which Dorana has never known.”

“Have no fear, Maris. Morgan will not go unscathed.”

“And her?” Maris demanded. “His whore?”

Barl Lindin. Who I knew full well was trouble the moment I laid eyes on her. “You can leave her to me.”

Maris said nothing for some moments, her gaze narrowed. “She was laughing at me, Venette.”

“I promise you, Maris. By the time I am done with that little bitch, laughter will be the furthest thing from her mind.” And then, as though she were seeing Maris for the first time, she frowned. “My dear—how did you get here? Weren’t you still at your family’s country estate?”

“Yes,” said Maris. “But I used a travel incant. How did you think?”