His fist thumped the sink’s draining board. “So I’m common now, am I? In that case, Barl, I’m surprised you don’t want to hide me away somewhere I’ll not be an embarrassment!”

Well, he was just determined to misread everything she said, wasn’t he? Because he didn’t approve of her dreams, thought she should be satisfied with a life spent at the beck and call of mages like Lady Grie and Artisan Master Arndel, he was going to twist every word she uttered into something mean and hateful, as though she were mean and hateful.

And I’m not. I just want a chance to spread my wings. Why is that so wrong?

Remmie was still glaring, his dark blue eyes hot and hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time she and her brother had been so much at odds.

And it’s his fault. Never once have I stood in his way, but now he thinks to stand in mine?

Torn between misery and her own resentful anger, she leaned across the table. “Of course you don’t embarrass me, Rem. But if you had a student who wanted to make a difference, who you knew could make a difference, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to help him make his dreams come true?”

“Barl…” Folding his arms, Remmie leaned against the sink. “You know I would.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, fighting the urge to shout. “So why won’t you do the same for me? Why would you do it for a stranger and not your own flesh and blood?”

Now his eyes were sullen. “You like to pretend that what you’re after is simple, but it’s not. You’re one mage, Barl. You can’t unmake centuries of history.”

“Who says I can’t? The greatest flood starts with a single drop of rain.”

“Perhaps it does, but floods are destructive! If you want to make a difference, invent a new incant, one that will change lives for the better, like Mage Lakewell did. And don’t tell me you can’t because the Lindin name’s not ranked. Plenty of unranked mages have been patented and celebrated ever after for their work.”

“Plenty?” she said, incredulous. “You call twelve mages plenty? In three centuries of trying? Remmie—”

“At least it’s not none!” he said, goaded. “At least you must admit you could be considered. But you won’t have even that chance, Barl, not if you persist in—”

“In what?” she said, longing to shake him. “Pointing out how wrong it is that a handful of men and women on the Council of Mages hold sway over so many? That the finest education Dorana has to offer is denied to all but a select, self-appointed few? Remmie, you’re a teacher! How can you defend that?”