Roland mulled it over for a minute. “He’s a commoner,” he said finally. “There were no children and you’re divorced. So I guess he’s out of the frame.”

No children. Miriam shook her head. “You’ll have to tell me about your inheritance laws,” she said carefully. Oh, what complications! Someone out there in America was a twelve-year-old girl—Miriam didn’t know where, she only knew general details about her adoptive family—who might have inherited Miriam’s current problem. She’s too young, Miriam thought instinctively. And she has no locket. But the adoption records were sealed and nobody but Ben and Iris knew about the pregnancy. If the family hadn’t found her, then—

“Oh, they’re simple enough,” said Roland, a slightly bitter note in his voice. “The, um, family talent? It only breeds true among the pure-blooded line. They found that out pretty early. It’s what the biologists call a recessive trait. On the other side, um, marriage customs are different—cousin marriages are allowed, for one thing—and for another, children who don’t have the talent aren’t part of the Clan. But they’re kept in the families. They form the outer, nonshareholding part of the Clan, but if two of them marry some of their children may inherit the talent.”

Good news mixed with bad news. On the one hand, her daughter—who she hadn’t seen since two days after her birth—was safe from the attentions of the family, safe to lead a normal life unless Miriam drew attention to her. As long as the family dug no deeper than they had so far. On the other hand—“You’re telling me that my parents were cousins?”

“Second cousins once removed, I think,” Roland replied. “Yes. By family law and custom marrying out is forbidden. You might want to bear that in mind, by the way, it’s the one big taboo.” He glanced aside nervously. “But you’re probably safe because you did it over here and divorced him before anyone knew.” He was staring at the wall, she realized, staring at something that wasn’t there in an attempt to avoid her gaze. Unpleasant memories? “Otherwise there would be repercussions. Bad ones.”

“You’re telling me.” She noticed her fingers turning white around the rim of her coffee cup. “So presumably Uncle Angbard will make life hard for me if I try to take off and he wants me to marry someone who’s a not-too-close family member.”

“That’s an understatement.” Roland’s cheek twitched. “It’s not as if the council would give him any other options,” he muttered.

“What else?” Miriam asked as the silence grew uncomfortable.