Her heart had chosen long ago, and she was helpless against its decision. Unfettered by worries about betrayals and loss, it now shouted its affirmation. The love in it relished the freedom to grow that this marriage provided.

Mark took one step toward her. The wind blew his hair around his handsome face and the day’s grey light shimmered off his armor. His wonderful eyes held understanding. “Let your heart accept me, Nesta. Let us make our love all it can be.”

“Will you accept me too? In my treason I betrayed you.”

“You never did during our truces. We will make a permanent one today, and we will forgive each other for what our duties required. Come and take my hand now, so they all see that you do so willingly.”

She took a deep breath, and walked toward him. The whole world watched, but that did not matter.

She was shaking by the time she placed her hand in his. Trembling. Relief overwhelmed her. So did an exhaustion of the spirit. Each step took her closer to a transforming vitality, however, as an uncontrollable love filled her with its enlivening light.

Laying his palm on her face, he looked into her eyes. She saw no warrior then. No lord. No defeat or victory. All that existed was the man who made her feel alive and young and full of sparkling grace.

“This marriage will be seen by many in the wrong way,” she said. “Not as England expiating a sin against Wales, but as Wales submitting to England, as a woman submits to her husband.”

“Some may see it that way. Others will say England was seduced, and made weak by desire. The story of Marcus of Anglesmore and Nesta verch Llygad can be sung in many ways.”

He turned his back on the watching men, so that he could kiss her privately. It was a beautiful kiss, deep and soulful. The possessive embrace in which he clutched her spoke of a triumph different from the one that others would see. His touch, his kiss, his eyes all contained a warmth and gratitude to match her own.

The bliss permeated her whole being and poured out until it united with his joy. It surrounded them like an invisible cloud from heaven.

“You risked much doing this as you did, Mark. One false step, and you would have fallen with me.”

“You were well worth the risk. So was the chance for peace.”

“I am grateful that you found a way to save me. To keep me,” she whispered.

“You should have known that I would. I told you so that first night. I said that I would fight to have you.”

He kissed her again, then turned with her under his arm and faced the plain and distant hill. “Who do you see waiting for us out there, Nesta?”