At the priory, he watched her carefully put words and silence together in just the right way to gain an audience with the prioress. The sister who had greeted them looked severely at her and the redheaded girl, instructing them to apply to the almoner after the nones prayer, like they were common beggars. Gryff had stepped forward, prepared to use a less humble approach so that they would be heard, but there was no need. A meek Nan said, “We will gladly do as you say, if the prioress wants us to wait.” She pulled a folded piece of parchment from the wallet at her belt and waited in silence while the sister glanced at it, sucked in her breath, and ushered them inside.

It must be something that showed she was from Morency, to have commanded such immediate respect. And yet Nan had not said the name, nor seemed at all boastful or proud of her connection. She was a mute supplicant who let the paper speak for her, and it was an attitude that served her well. The prioress granted her a private meeting, accepted the girl into the priory, and sent Nan on her way with provisions and wishes for a safe journey.

Now as they made their way west he let the silence grow between them, acquiescing to it every day, feeling himself bound to her more and more because they shared it together. He did not try to fill it, as he had felt compelled to do when they journeyed before.

Instead he decided to ask her one thing every day, one carefully chosen query. He passed the hours in stealing glances at her, trying to forget the feel of her breath against his lips, and deciding what question he would put to her.

“Where in Wales do you go?” he had asked at the end of the first day.

“Well north of Aderinyth,” she answered, after only a little pause.

He waited, watching her, resisting the urge to press for a more specific answer. This was the more common use of silence, more familiar to him – to allow the weight of it to force a response. No matter how reluctant to talk, the natural aversion to silence could so easily coax words from anyone. Maybe even her.

He could feel the tension rise in her, see the way her jaw clenched against saying more as she avoided his eyes. It was a relief to know she was not immune. But then she looked up, and that was the end of his relief.