“No, Sallis,” said Brice, shaking his head. “I would not put him on the defensive. As Venette says, he is grieving. Let us show him some little mercy. Express our condolences for his loss, as is proper, then exert our influence as tactfully as we can.” He looked around the table, his lined face weary. “Do you feel comfortable travelling by incant? I’d prefer no delay in this.”

If any of them were nervous, they weren’t about to admit it. They incanted to the Danfey estate, and were greeted at the mansion’s imposing front doors by its master servant.

With a glance, Brice ceded his authority for the moment. Grateful, Venette stepped forward. “Rumm. We must speak with Councillor Danfey.”

Looking past her to Brice, the master servant hesitated then bowed. “Councillors.”

Rumm’s form of address wasn’t incorrect, but it lacked a certain… deference. Uneasy, Venette looked at him more closely.

“We’ve heard your sad news, Rumm. You have the Council’s sympathy.”

Rumm’s eyes glittered, his grief close to the surface. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Where is the councillor now?”

“His lordship is occupied with privy business,” said Rumm, a note of censure in his voice. “I shall inform him of your arrival. Please come with me.”

As Rumm left them stranded in the foyer and withdrew to fetch Morgan, Brice gestured her a little aside. “This is most odd. There is a powerful warding around this estate. Can you feel it?”

Of course she could. Morgan’s country home dwelled within a cocoon. “Yes.”

“Venette, I do not care for it.”

And neither did she, but if they didn’t tread carefully this visit would end in disaster. “I’m sure it’s nothing nefarious,” she murmured, with a worried look at Sallis and Shari. “Brice, please, one fight at a time. First let us settle—”

“More uninvited visitors?” a brittle voice said behind them. “How irritating. I think I must consider some kind of lock on the gate.”

They turned. Morgan. Seeing the grief in him, feeling it, Venette bit her lip. Her anger still burned, but who could remain indifferent to such pain? A touch to her arm told her Brice was resuming his authority. She eased back, her heart pounding.

Don’t be a fool, Morgan. Please. Don’t be a fool.

“Councillor,” Brice said quietly. “The Council extends to you its formal condolences on the death of Lord Danfey. All of Dorana shares in your loss.”

“You should have told us yourself he was dead,” said Sallis. “Why didn’t you?”

Brice turned. “Lord Arkley.”

Chastened, at least for the moment, Sallis stared at the foyer floor. Shari stepped closer to him, her inevitable allegiance truculently declared.