Now the clerk stirred to life, pulling out parchments, citing the terms of old treaties that had been violated on both sides for generations. Amidst it all came another realization: if Gryff had known his father’s mind, if he had not fled out of fear, he might have gone home already. Years ago.

The clerk was saying there were details to be settled, conditions to which Gryff must agree in order to be declared the lord of Aderinyth. He launched into a lengthy explanation of how the disputed southern border would be determined according to English law and not Welsh, but Gryff barely heard it.

He had never thought to rule; he had only ever wanted to go home. But what would there be left of his home if a Norman lord ruled there, or Rhodri? Already the people suffered with no leader to protect them from greed and spite. All because his father had thought he was so clever to play both sides.

A sudden memory came to him, of how once he had dared to argue with his father, saying Aderinyth should stop fighting and live peaceably as vassals to the English crown. He had not meant it to be an argument – he thought it was an obvious fact, because a prince should want only peace and prosperity for his people. But it had infuriated his father, who had shouted about pride and courage and ancient lineage. Gryff had looked at his flushed and angry face and struggled to find the words to say that there were ways besides war, other paths that might be taken to preserve power and gain advantage. He had been a child, though, and could only shout back that his father was selfish and just as cruel as the king he hated.

Now he saw how right he had been. How selfish it had been of his father, who had not wanted to sacrifice his title or lands or allegiance. How much more selfish it was for Gryff to have run away, thinking only of his own life, blithely forgetting that it was the people who paid the price. It was they who suffered and died, for one man’s pride and another’s cowardice.

No more could he think only of his own selfish desires. The home he had longed for could be preserved, his people protected. No more falconers would hang, no more useless wars would be fought.

He would not be a prince. But he could not be only a simple Welshman.

She would understand it. She must. They would find a way.

He interrupted the droning clerk. He did not care about details. “The charge to care for my people will be given to me and no other?” he asked Will. “I will be allowed to go home?” He could not keep the emotion from his voice on the last word.

Will nodded, solemn. “I swear it. The king swears it, do you do as he commands.”