“You speak of what you were born to,” he said at last. “And I cannot care. Were you born to more, or to less – still I would esteem you more highly than any lady I have known. Still I would want you. You and no other.” He saw the doubt in her eyes, and the question that had lurked in him for days escaped. “Do you want me less, now that you know what I am born to?”

He did not breathe at all while she stared wordlessly at him. The candle flickered, sending light and shadows dancing across her face. Then she blinked, and let out a trembling breath.

“I should.” She whispered it. “God forgive me, I should. But I want you all the same.” She bit her lips together and moved her eyes over him like a caress. “More, even, when I think we will be parted.”

She stepped forward, her dress hanging loosely, and sat beside him on the bed. He wanted to embrace her and say that they would not be parted, that he would never let anything take her from him. But he was at the king’s mercy, and could promise nothing. His hand found hers, so small and delicate for all her strength and skill, and she gripped it tightly. She lifted his hand and pressed her lips against his fingers.

“What will happen?” she asked, and when he did not answer readily, she looked at him. She spoke in Welsh. “Say me the truth of it, for I know naught of the king and his commands.”

He nodded. He could give her that, if nothing else.

“I wait to discover if Edward thinks me a threat. I am loyal to him, but my family has fought for generations against the domination of the Normans.” How strange, that it was his father’s words that came from him, the old avoidance of saying such things as traitor and treason and rebellion. “The king wants no more Welsh nobles to trouble him, or to stand as challenge to his authority in Wales. Yet do I think he may show me more mercy than he has shown many other Welsh princes.”

Her eyes never left his. “Why?”

All the many things that signaled his fidelity to the king swirled through his mind, all the ways Edward would find him useful. But he chose the one thing he thought most important, that she would understand most easily. “Because I will forswear the title of prince.” He watched her eyes widen in shock. “No prince of Aderinyth since my grandfather has been consecrated by the Church. It is but a word, as I have said. One I will gladly sacrifice.”

He could feel the rise and fall of her breath against his arm where she clutched it lightly to her chest. Her eyes searched his.

“Will it be enough?”