She shrugged. “I’m having second thoughts at being seen with you in public. All these years, and still you can’t dress yourself. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not as easy as it looks. You should try for yourself.”

“And you should try lacing a corset.”

Josiri shook his head in silent amusement. She’d no more laced her own corset than she’d pinned and braided her own hair. Calenne was as content to prevail upon the servants as Josiri was loath to rely upon them.

“You should have a servant do it,” said Calenne.

“Some things a man has to do for himself.” He reached for the pin.

“Oh, very noble. Fair sends a shiver down my spine. Why can’t your demon do it?”

“Anastacia says it’s beneath her.”

Calenne sniffed. “I’m glad something is.”

Josiri shot her an irritated glance. The recalcitrant pin, freed from his attention, pricked at his flesh. “Ah!”

In the mirror, Calenne’s teeth flashed a grin. “Oh, for Lumestra’s sake . . .”

She held out an expectant hand. Josiri hesitated, then capitulated. Wearing an expression entirely too triumphant for his liking, she stepped around his shoulder and set to work.

“It’s not a glorious way for the Trelan line to end, is it?” said Calenne. “‘The last duke stabbed himself in the throat while dressing for a crowd.’ What would Katya say?”

“I hope she’d understand,” said Josiri, his thoughts more on the speech to come than the ephemera of raiment.

“Uh-uh.” Calenne unlooped the cravat, re-sited it, and set about knotting the silk anew. “Once she’d finished laughing. There. That looks better.”

She stepped aside, giving Josiri an unobstructed view. The cravat was straight, the pin centred. He buttoned his waistcoat and slid on his jacket. “Who’ll do this for me once you’re gone?”

“You should have considered that before giving your blessing.”

“I can always change my mind.”

The sudden darkening of Calenne’s expression told him the jest had passed her by. “Don’t you dare.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Plenty of cautionary tales about those who stand in the way of true love.”

“Yes,” said Calenne distantly. “True love. What a wonder.”

The wistfulness in her tone set Josiri on guard. “You do want to marry Kasamor?”

She crossed to the window and stared out across the tangled gardens. “I want the marriage more than anything.” She offered a lopsided shrug. “It’s the man I’m indifferent to.”

Josiri felt a sudden chill. “Pardon me?”

To his surprise, she laughed. “Oh, my dear brother. So perceptive, and yet so blind. It’s Kasamor’s name I want, not him. It’s the only way I can escape this cursed family.”

Frustration flooded back. Half-remembered lessons about dignity melted away.

“Does Kasamor know?”

“Of course not.” She spoke without turning. “It’s nothing to do with him.”