Gwenllian watched and waited and dared not breathe as they rode through the gate and slowly out of sight. But her mother did not look back.

She might have turned to stone in truth, standing there, had not Ranulf finally touched her arm. Without looking at him, she turned and walked swiftly to the keep, mounting the stairs and not stopping until she reached the solar. There she sat, dropping the buckle next to her, staring at it for a measureless time.

Then he was there, standing before her. The effort to stand, or even to look up to meet his eyes, was too great. Instead she trained her eyes on his belt, eye level to her, and did not wait for him to ask.

“No longer do I command men, and so they are gone home to Ruardean.”

She smoothed her skirt over her knees, wishing she had gone instead to the herb house. There she could make herself a tonic for deep sleep, strong enough so that she need not wake for hours and hours. How long would it take, for this ache to become more bearable?

“Your mother?” he asked. “Your... disagreement?”

There was the faintest urgency in him, a hint of worry. She tried to think if he could have heard them speak Llewellyn’s name, or Edward’s. Her mother imprisoned or dead and Ruardean ruined, if Edward was told. Ranulf’s head on a block, if he knew of conspiracy and hid it from his king.

There was no strength left in her to know which was right, or what should be said, or done. Before she could stop herself, she found herself saying, “She plots with Welsh rebels. It is madness.”

He stepped closer to her, close enough to touch.

“You do not go with her.”

She shook her head once, quick and decisive. Panic for her mother, for her men, suddenly clutched at her. Hardly recognizing the voice that came from her, she turned her face up to him and entreated, “Do not tell Edward. You must not tell Edward. It is folly, it will come to nothing. I beseech you, husband, please–”

He interrupted her plea.

“Edward will learn of it, when she acts. I cannot protect her then.”

“She will not act. It is no more than a dream. In time she will see it cannot be done.” Saying it aloud eased her panic. “She thinks to make her move in spring, but Llewellyn is unwilling. By the time the snow melts, she will come to see reason.”

The corner of his mouth came up in a wry smile. It caused the small lines beside his eyes to appear.

“Is this all that is required to change a woman’s mind – for the snow to fall, and melt?”