The implications of his last words had her wavering at once. She could not deny that he had taken a harder, riskier path to this victory than was necessary. She tried to block from her mind the evidence that he had chosen it, and because of her.

All the same, her anger began slipping from her grasp, sliding away despite the way she frantically clutched at it.

He held out his hand. Cold steel encased the arm, but his palm beckoned with human warmth. Her emotions still churned from an internal storm that whirled in her head and chest.

“Come and accept me, Nesta. We will say the vows with both sides as witness.”

“So now you expect me to agree to be your wife? After you have done this, and used me in this way?”

“I do not only expect it, I demand it. You and I and Carwyn know that your father did not raise his banner because of you, but many of the Welsh believe it. As the King’s representative, I will rectify that insult today.”

“You cannot demand it. In this one thing, in this last, small part of all of this, what I want finally matters.”

“Then accept me because you want to.”

“You are so sure of what I want?”

“Aye. We want each other. That is the only thing that I have known for sure these last weeks. Wanting you was the only clearheaded truth I could hold on to.”

She tried to close her ears to him. She did not want his calm, quiet words working their soothing charm. Seducing her. Luring her to weakness, as they had so often done. Confusing her, and dividing her heart.

“The King’s man should not be so easily swayed by passion, Marcus.”

“The King’s man did his duty. If he found a way to do it and avoid a war, he is content. If he found a way to do it and also keep the woman he loves, he is satisfied. If that woman takes his hand willingly, he will consider it the greatest victory of his life.”

His hand still waited for her. Down below, Carwyn and Arundal and Hubert had left the tent and watched. In the distance she could see the Welsh army’s attention on her, and the speck of color that was Addis’s surcotte.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” she said.

“Your body does not. Your heart does, however. What choice does it want to make?”

Her heart. That acceptance would not be a public avowal, no matter what the watching armies would see. It was private, between the two of them alone. It was a thing apart from the words that would be said, and the bargain that would be made. It always had been.