She read it over several times, hearing her father’s voice saying the words. She branded her mind with the marks his hand had made. Her gaze lingered on the last lines that expressed his love for her and Genith.

It was too explicit. A smart man would comprehend what it contained. She did not need to take it, but she dared not leave it.

She rose to her feet and carried it to the hearth. She lifted the roll to her lips and kissed this last physical vestige of Llygad ap Madoc. Blinking back tears, she threw it into the flames.

Swallowing her sadness, she tucked the sack under the bed and closed the chest. Eventually she would get its contents back. The day would come when Marcus would permit that.

Genith was instructing the servants on her packing. A veil of green silk, a little carved box, and a mirror of polished metal were lined up on the bed. At Genith’s gesture, a servant reached for them.

“You cannot take the luxuries he bought you yesterday,” Nesta said.

“You said one sack only, but these are small and will not take up much space.”

“It is dishonest to keep his gifts even as you repudiate him.”

Genith stroked the veil and pouted. “You are taking the parchment.”

“Only so I can write to you, and I will leave a coin for it.” Nesta pointed to several garments that had been discarded. “Take these, not the silk. Choose for practicality and warmth. Be sure to hide the sack under the bed when you are done.” She strode to the door. “Get to bed as soon as possible. I will return shortly.”

She hurried down to the hall where most of the household still gathered. The adults sat in groups, talking and listening to the music flowing from Dylan’s harp. Children ran wild, playing games and tumbling about. Nesta settled herself among three ladies married to some of Marcus’s knights.

Marcus sat at the high table with their husbands. The oldest man there, he still appeared very young tonight as he joined a boisterous conversation that had the men laughing and grinning.

The happy chaos filling the hall kept lapping over him, and he tolerated the interruptions as few lords would. When some boys’ flying bean sack hit him in the head, he merely tossed it back and watched their play with an expression that suggested he would not mind joining them. When a small child climbed onto the table and crawled down its length, Marcus simply plucked the boy into his arms and kept talking until the apologetic mother fetched him.