For a moment Venette thought Brice was going to argue. Then he nodded. “Farewell, my lord. For now. But we shall speak again. Soon. When you are less… distempered.”

He turned for the doors, and with a sharp look took sputtering Sallis and Shari with him. Venette stayed, waiting for Morgan to speak. When he didn’t, she sighed.

“Well, my dear. This is something of a tangle.”

“For you, perhaps,” he said, shrugging. “Not me.”

There had to be a way to reach him. “You must know you’ve hurt Maris.”

He snorted. “A pinprick. She’ll live.”

“Morgan… what are you doing?”

“I’m following my heart.”

“Your heart?”

His laugh was bitter. “What—you don’t think I have one?”

“Don’t be silly,” she snapped. “I think—”

I think Barl Lindin will ruin you. I think this is a mistake.

And then she shook her head. What was the point? He had no intention of listening. His mind was made up.

“My dear, I am so sorry about Greve.”

His lips tightened. “He’s at peace now.”

Perhaps. If only she could say the same about his son. “Morgan—”

“You should go,” he said, nodding at the doors. “Or they’ll be claiming I hold you here against your will.”

He really was unreachable. She’d never felt like that before. Despite Maris, despite her anger and disappointment, she was deeply grieved. Somehow, she’d failed him. She’d failed his mother, her friend. Close to tears, she nodded.

“Well, then. Goodbye, my dear.”

“Goodbye, Venette.”

But before she reached the foyer doors, she slowed then turned back. “Morgan, why is the estate warded?”

“Why do you care?” he said, sneering. “Or is it you’d like to add that to my list of transgressions?”

“Of course not. You’ve broken no law. Tell me… is it because you’ve been mageworking with Barl Lindin?”

“And if I have?”

“Then some might say that is breaking the law. She hasn’t been formally released from her binding.”

He shrugged, faintly smiling. “I released her. All perfectly legal, since I was a councillor at the time.”

Which was true. Conflicted, Venette bit her lip. She should say something of Bellamie Ranowen’s alarm. But if Brice found out she’d directly disobeyed him…

I must speak. Morgan’s one of our best mages. And we need all the help we can get.

“During your mageworking, you’ve not felt anything… out of the ordinary, have you?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Out of the ordinary?”

“Peculiar. Odd. You know. Unusual.”

“No, Venette,” he said, and gestured at the open doors. “Goodbye.”

Defeated, at least for the moment, she left.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-seven

Morgan didn’t need to look round to know that Rumm had returned cat-footed to the foyer and was standing ready, the model master servant. Waving the open doors shut again, he considered his departed visitors.