Lying in bed beside Morgan, head turned on the pillow to watch him sleep, Barl marvelled at the moonlit planes of his face. She thought she could stare at him for hours, for ever, and never grow weary of his cheekbones, his lips, his nose. His hair was unbound and silver gilt, spread like spun silk on the pillows between them. Unfurling her fingers she stroked it, and felt her skin shiver. She loved his hair. She loved him. Even when she was angry with him, still she loved him. The simplicity of that stole her breath. The power of it sustained her. If they had to live apart on this estate for the rest of their lives, she didn’t care. For where they loved, they would endure.

So long as Dorana endures.

“You mustn’t fret, my love,” he said, not opening his eyes. “All will be well in the end.”

Because he was awake, she slid her fingertips down his arm. “I know.”

“And don’t think I am crushed by the Council’s rejection. I outgrew those fools some time ago.”

Venette Martain had brought them the news, not long after they’d sat down to their supper. She’d been so upset she’d actually deigned to join them at the kitchen table and let Rumm feed her plain mutton stew.

“I know that too. But Morgan…”

Venette Martain hadn’t only told them about the loss of his position. There was worse news, that had killed appetite stone dead.

“Barl.” Morgan took her hand. “What have we been preparing for, if not the predations of our neighbours?”

She hid her face against his shoulder. “Yes, Morgan, I know. But we’re not ready for them, are we?”

“We will be.”

“Oh, Morgan.” Letting go of him, she sat up. “Must we have this argument again? So soon? You are not confident, my love. You’re as worried as I am. Put on a brave face for Venette Martain and Rumm, if you must, but don’t try to cozen me.”

He opened his eyes. “All right.”

“So… what are we going to do?”

“We’re doing it, Barl. We are creating the magework that will save Dorana. Provided we hold our course and keep our nerve, we will prevail. Do not doubt that for a moment. And I am not cozening you,” he added, pressing a finger to her lips as she began to protest. “I believe it, wholeheartedly.”

She could see that he did. If only I could believe it. “Morgan, how is it our magework is unaffected when the rest of Dorana is in such a state? Even Lady Martain seemed baffled.” She pulled a face. “Relieved, too, curse her, but baffled.”

“Don’t curse Venette,” he said, frowning. “She’s been a good and loyal friend.”

“To you. Me, she’d happily see broken-legged in a ditch!”