He watched her face as she gazed at it, but she betrayed no emotion. Davydd showed no such restraint, his lilting voice proclaiming it a prettier place than he had thought possible, wondering if there were fish in the lake and how large was the deer park and how queerly flat the land was in every direction.

From the gatehouse far ahead, an animal came darting out and began to run toward them. It was a small dog, dirty white and wiry fur. It kicked up dust as it ran and, just before it come to the horses, it detoured into the long grass that grew between the path and the lake. When they rode past the patch where it had disappeared, it trotted calmly out and fell in step with Ranulf’s horse all the way to the gate, looking up at him from time to time.

He could have wished for a better welcome than just a mongrel at his heels. At least the place looked well. There was nothing to criticize in the buildings or the grounds that he could see, empty as they seemed to be.

And then, just as they reached the outer curtain wall, he began to hear the noise of a great many people within the walls. They must have gathered to greet the new Lady of Morency. He had bid the steward to assure a fit welcome. This had apparently been interpreted to mean more than merely chasing the dust from the lady’s bower. Nothing could have prepared him for what lay within the walls.

A burst of color greeted them when they passed through the gate into the inner court. So accustomed was he to a silent and even sullen homecoming, that he could not understand what he saw at first. The air was filled with flutterings of white, red, yellow, pink that fell to the ground, carpeting the ground in color. They were petals, he realized with faint surprise, flung from countless hands from atop the nearest towers and the keep.

Amidst a trumpeting fanfare barely heard above the cheering of the crowd – more people here than he had seen since he was a boy – he saw the steward approaching with a broad, satisfied smile. No doubt the man had arranged that every able-bodied person spend the day tearing petals from stems to create this spectacle. He could only hope as much energy had been expended in preparing a meal for the weary travelers.

Ranulf dismounted. Before the servant could, he reached his arms up to Gwenllian to help her from her horse. She only looked at him for the space of a breath, startled and confused, before she leaned toward him and let herself be handed down.