A falconer’s daughter said the fair lady who spoke their language so well was on foot, and could not have traveled far. He sent riders to the nearest villages to seek any news of her while he arranged an escort for Lady Margaret, who was quick enough to travel now that the destination was more desirable.

The abbey she named was not far from Will’s home, so he sent word ahead to ask that Will would see her small party was accommodated as they passed through his lands. He told the cleric who wrote the message to be clear that it was not Lady Margaret at fault, that Gryff had chosen another bride, and that his most fervent wish was that Lady Margaret arrive at the abbey quickly and without incident. He could only hope that Will would forgive him for thwarting his plans, and smooth the way with King Edward.

Then he began preparations for his own journey. If he did not find her, he would go to Lady Eluned. He would prostrate himself before her, if he must, and ask where Nan had gone.

In the end he did not have to go further than a few miles. It was only the next day, just an hour after his former betrothed had departed, that he found himself outside the tiny village church. He remembered it well from his youth.

Father Ifor had heard her confession just that morning, and said she had gone up the mountain path to see the lake. The priest did not believe in any such pagan ideas as fairy queens, but he did recall that the princes had often wandered there when they were very young. It seemed to please her, he explained to his prince, and though she said she was headed north, she and her little dog had taken the path up to see the place. They had not yet come down.

It was the same path Gryff had imagined her on, a hundred times. The same lake where he had dreamt she stood, with flowers at her feet and dagger in hand. He commanded his guard to stay at the foot of the path, and climbed.

He found Fuss first, waiting near the top of the path among the trees, keeping guard. The dog was overjoyed to see him, whining and dancing, falling to the ground on his back with tail thumping as Gryff rubbed his belly. When he moved forward Fuss did not run ahead to warn her, but stayed at Gryff’s ankles, looking up at him with tongue lolling happily as they walked.

She stood at the edge of the water, looking out over it. She wore her cloak, the hood down and her hair pulled loosely back, falling free of its simple tie, the mountains rising up all around her. He felt the sight engrave itself onto his heart.