“I bring you your new lady, whom our good king has given to me to wife. Lady Genith is the younger daughter of Llygad ap Madoc. By this union, the King absolves Llygad of his treason. Our son will carry the noble blood of both England and Cymru, and will be a new lord for a new age of harmony in these lands.”

He had chosen his words carefully, and practiced them during the journey. His pride in his newfound eloquence was ruined, however. Halfway through his little speech he completely lost the rapt attention of his people.

He saw it happening. First one glance away, then another. One head turning slightly, then a whole group of them. Finally the gazes shifted as one until everyone in the hall looked not to him, but to a spot behind him, just left of his shoulder.

When he finished, no one reacted because no one had noticed.

He turned his head to see the cause of the rudeness.

Nesta stood at the bottom of the stairway. She stayed in the shadow while Genith glowed in the light, but she might have been emitting rays of fire, so totally did she fascinate the people.

Marcus could almost hear the reaction to her. So, that is she. The elder daughter. The King’s whore. The wronged woman. The Welsh temptress. The heir to Llygad.

She stood like a queen, self-possessed and shameless. Marcus half expected the Welsh in the hall to drop to their knees.

It occurred to him that Stratford may have made a serious mistake in sending her here.

He turned to Genith. “Go to your sister. Tell her about the betrothal and wedding, so that she can prepare you.”

“What did you speak of?” Nesta demanded as soon as she and Genith entered their chamber.

“The marriage.” Genith strolled about, checking the room’s measure. Her wandering glance took in the one bed, and the pallets waiting for the servants. Stepping around the one stool, she ended up by the window, and peered down into the yard below.

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“He did not question you about why you left me, and where you were going? He did not seek information from you?”

“We spoke only of the marriage he plans to make with me. It will be in three days. We will be betrothed tonight.”

“Saints. He said soon, but I did not expect this soon. A betrothal binds you as surely as a wedding.”

“I know.” Genith rested her elbows on the window niche’s edge and gazed out the thick slit in the wall. “Where did they take Dylan?”

“He is in a cellar chamber, beneath the north tower.”

“Will Marcus hang him?”

“There is no proof that Dylan is with Father’s men. Nothing has been sworn against him. I do not think that Marcus will condemn a man without just cause.”

“What if he is very angry?”