“It has everything to do with him!” His anger always burned brighter when Calenne drew it forth. Even Makrov couldn’t rile him so. “I won’t let you do this.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I can tell him the truth!”

Calenne turned from the window, arms folded across her chest and fire blazing in her eyes. “Then the next time I climb the tower, I’ll give myself to the Raven.”

Josiri froze, overcome by the image of his sister plunging from the ruined balcony. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I want my freedom, Josiri. If I can’t have it one way, I’ll find it another.”

He willed himself to calm. If the last fifteen years had taught him anything, it was that nothing good came of butting heads with Calenne. “Kasamor deserves the truth.”

“He has his truth. That’s all most of us want. You’ll only break his heart.”

“And that matters to you?”

Calenne’s expression softened. “More than it should. He’s a good man, and he’s kind. I saw as much when he first stood his turn as the Council’s emissary. He’s the only one who’s ever treated you as an equal.”

At Ascension, just last year. “You pestered me for an introduction.”

“And you teased me. You were merciless.”

“I was pleased. You deserve a better life than one cooped . . .”

Calenne tilted her head and threw him the too-familiar “I told you so” glance.

“All right.” The last of Josiri’s anger seeped away into resignation. “You’ve made your point.”

She took his hands in hers. “I promise not to make Kasamor miserable. And it’s not as though arranged marriages aren’t common.”

“It’s only an arranged marriage if both parties believe it so.” Josiri rubbed at his forehead. “You could have wed years ago, if marriage was all you wanted.”

“But not to a family of the first rank.”

So that was it. Despite censure by the Council, the Trelan bloodline retained its status. If Calenne married beneath her station, the luckless husband would take her name. More than that, the sins of kith would cling to him as well. He’d be sealed behind the manor’s wards, as much a prisoner as his bride. But by marrying Kasamor, Calenne could take his name. She’d become an adopted daughter of the Kiradin line, and censure had no claim on a Kiradin.

Josiri sighed. His mother had fled an arranged marriage for love. Now his sister conspired at a loveless marriage in order to flee. But family came first. Even before poor, love-struck Kasamor Kiradin. Who was a northerner, after all, and therefore had his own sins of the kith to bear.

“If that’s what you want,” he said at last, “then of course I’ll support you. I’m sorry I overreacted.”