His knuckles had turned white where they gripped the cup. The female is the fiercer creature, he heard Philip say to him. It was true. But it was men who had murdered him, and men who had sworn him to a secrecy that killed him. And for what? Nests and birds. Wealth, pride, and a king’s vanity.

He began to understand a little, what it might mean to have enough hate in his heart to burn down the world entire.

But he could also hear what his father had said so often, what Philip had taught him, too: To rule well, you must learn what it is to be a servant to one who serves you. He had fled, and Philip died because Gryff had not been there to serve his people. Hate would not change that, nor would it absolve him of his own transgression.

“Who rules there?” Gryff asked. The love he had for the place, that he had denied and hidden and tried to contain for so long, came vividly back to life, a ferocious protectiveness. Some cruel new lord was likely seated in his father’s hall even now, hanging stubborn falconers and looking over his spoils of war. “What new barony has been made of it?”

“None.” Lord Robert poured more wine. “Rhodri makes a claim for it, of course. Will has argued against him these many years. He has said to Edward that yours is the rightful claim, and you a true and loyal servant to the crown. Will argues that it is Welsh law, not Norman, that would allow a bastard to inherit – and that Edward should not rule with Welsh law.”

Gryff snorted. “Ever has Edward chosen the law that serves him best.” It was the cause of most Welsh grievances against the king. “Will has developed a silver tongue indeed, if he has held him off so many years.”

“Is not commonly known, but when Edward divided the conquered lands among his barons, he did agree to Will’s suggestion: to keep Aderinyth free of rule for five years, in case you should return to claim it. And here you are.”

They stared at each other while the words sank in. Lord Robert was thoughtful and assessing. Gryff was stunned. Five years from the division of Wales – that would be only months from now, in the spring of next year.

“He would...” Gryff struggled for words, astonishment making his tongue slow. “I have only to claim it?”

A sound of derision came from Lady Eluned, who still stood at the window.

“You cannot know Edward well, do you think it so simple,” she said. “There is no knowing what game he will play or what dance he will lead you. And at the end of it, you may have your lands or you may not. He holds all the power. It will be as it pleases him, not you.”