When he had gone, they spoke at length of what transpired in Wales, of who had been given lands to rule there and why. Lord Robert told him who held power at court, which favorites held sway with the king and the matters that were most pressing. He had a clear distaste for the intrigues of court, and despite her aptitude Lady Eluned seemed to have no interest in it. She stood quiet at the window, listening while the food grew stale and her husband related only the most necessary information without embellishment.

But at the end of it, Lord Robert sat back and said, “I ask my lady wife what course she thinks best. We must tell Edward you live, and deliver you to him. But I would send word to Will in secret, and let him choose what is safest to tell the king and when.”

“Safest for Prince Gruffydd, you mean,” observed Lady Eluned, a pinch to her lips. “But I consider what is safest for you, my lord husband. There is risk in secrecy. Edward will not like to learn of this too late.”

Lord Robert gave a reassuring smile, the kind that only cocksure fools or justifiably confident men gave. “I put it in Will’s hands, and he is a trusted favorite at court. If he delays in telling the king, I do not doubt he will have ready explanation for it.”

She looked like she might protest, but did not. She only gave a short nod and said, “William will know the risk, and handle it well. We will give the message to Robin to carry, and I will choose the words with care.”

Lord Robert agreed and then looked at Gryff. “I will trust you not to flee again, and promise you my protection as long as you are in my household. Rhodri would be hard pressed to reach you here and do we stay alert, there is naught to fear of him.”

He stood, saying he would show him to the chamber that would be made ready for him, and Gryff only briefly considered the possibility of fleeing in the night. To do so would be worse than foolish – it would make him seem guilty in some way, and they would hunt him down soon enough. If not the king’s men, then Rhodri himself would find him.

Even those practical realities were nothing to the new realization that pressed in upon him: that if he ran now, he could only keep running, and forsake Aderinyth. What a child he had been, an impulsive boy who had thought only of his own life when he fled, and in the years since had thought only of his own longing to return. And while he feared for himself and dreamt of home, his people suffered and died.