They were devastating questions, and they sliced to the center of the turmoil filling her. The truth behind her feeling of betrayal stared her in the face. She had expected him to warn her. She had thought that because of their intimacy he would give her a fighting chance.

He must have read her thoughts on her face, because his expression hardened. “For a woman with such famous experience, you do not know men well. A knight does not discard his duty so easily. This knight certainly doesn’t. Not for the brief truces and simple pleasures you offered, especially when you have made it clear just how brief and simple they are to you.”

Grabbing his sword and gauntlets, he strode past her. “Your father’s men have begun killing. Word has come that some Welsh chieftains have joined them. So now we truly have a rebellion, as your father wanted and you planned. A little one still, and I will not permit it to become a big one. I will not see Wales flayed alive in the name of a doomed cause. Hopefully, Addis will be enough help.” He paused at the door. “If you had come last night, I would have explained this to you, so that maybe you would understand.”

After he left, she could barely move. She gazed numbly to where he had been standing, looking so handsome and perfect in his armor, so beautiful despite his severity.

She could see the bed from the corner of her eye. Memories of sharing it with him hurt her heart. She thought that she had truly left the days behind when she came here, but her disappointment proved that she had not.

Nor had he.

Had his mind been full of strategies even while he held her? In the sweet silence after they made love, had he been counting knights and archers, and deciding how to crush the dream?

She shook her head at the depths of her self-deception. It had been foolish to pretend that their passion could exist separately from their rivalry. She laughed at how absurd the notion had been, but as she did a sharp fullness in her chest rose to thicken her throat. Disillusionment flowed up until her eyes teared, leaving her laughing and crying at the same time.

She turned and fully looked at the bed, and grinned at her stupidity as the tears snaked down her cheeks.

Addis de Valence, Lord of Barrowburgh, gazed thoughtfully up at the hilltops. “The alliance that you suggest would lead to strife such as these parts have not seen in two generations. If Llygad’s men join with a powerful marcher lord, these bandits will start a major war,” he said. “It is well that you called me instead of the local barons, Marcus, if this is your suspicion. It would not do to have a viper in your camp.”