Like some fatuous maid at tourney, she mocked herself. It was as bad as that, her wish to see him fight and how he would win. He always won. Even now, weakened from illness and his wounds still fresh, she wagered he could win. He was legend with the sword.

“You must take him to Edward.” Her mother came closer to look out the small window, but Gwenllian pulled away. It seemed wrong – a betrayal somehow, to let her mother see her fascination with the man.

At a safe distance from the scene below, she allowed herself to hear what her mother had said. “I must take him?” She felt the anger rise in her breast and took a deep breath. “Mother, you know I cannot. Better to let him go, once we discover his purpose in coming. You say you spoke with him?”

Her mother turned back from the window and nodded. “I told him we would escort him to his king in a week’s time. So you will take him, Gwenllian.”

Gwenllian set her jaw against annoyance. She knew her mother trusted her above any other. That she was proud of her daughter and loved her well was never in question. Oh, but Gwenllian would give anything for even a grain of equal respect. To be treated as more than a child, to have some say in these decisions.

“You spoke with him, but you did not find his reason for being in Wales?”

It was petty. She had known without asking that her mother had been too intimidated to ask him anything of the sort. But as lately happened, Gwenllian could not help reacting to Eluned’s peremptory commands by drawing attention to her mother’s weaknesses in return. They were falling into a pattern, a push and pull of authority that was like to drive them both mad.

“I should have waited for you. Is a rare man does cow me, but this one is like a caged lion. It was you who caged him,” she said, looking at Gwenllian with obvious pride. “And you who will take him to his king.”

Gwenllian lost her patience in a flash, exasperation bubbling up without a hope of being contained. “Why, mother? We have no right to hold him, nor force him to travel where we will. And why to Edward, pray?”

She could not regret losing her temper, not even when her mother flinched and said, “I knew you would not like this.”

“By Christ, I do not! You want him back in court, where he will tell Edward –Edward, mama! – who still suspects us of loving our Welsh prince too well. You would have Morency tell Edward that we struck him down and held him prisoner.”

“Do not call him that.” Her eyes flashed with a warning, but Gwenllian did not care.