It was the look he gave her then stayed with her, visiting her dreams every night since he’d touched her and every minute since they’d come to Windsor. A rare look, direct and simple. As plainly as though he had spoken words under oath, she knew his mind. She knew he would protect her from scorn and shame. God alone knew why. She was more enslaved to the memory of that look than ever she had been to his mouth, his hands.

He had surrendered the weapons without her asking and silently waited to follow her lead, and she had turned and walked toward the sound of her men without doubting Morency followed her. It was a play, and she knew that he would act his part.

The next days had proven her right. He did not look directly at her again. Nor did he ask to be armed again, nor make any moves to escape. He only avoided her eyes and made his way toward Windsor with the rest of them. When they came at last to where Edward held court, she sent word ahead that the lord of Morency was at the king’s disposal, and it was not two hours before palace guards led him away.

Even then, he did not look in her direction. Even now, she tried to convince herself she had not betrayed him. It was inevitable. She must take him to Edward. It was a king’s command and her mother’s wish, to the advantage of Ruardean. There was no reason she should want to bar the soldiers from taking him, or to ask his forgiveness as he was taken away. None at all.

Lack-wit, she told herself. He is not your friend.

She found a curved stone bench and sat, listening to the bard sing to the end of the tale as he strolled to the nearby small pavilion where two ladies sat in private conversation. Their clothes and jewels spoke to great wealth. Gwenllian wondered if they might even be sisters to the king, so fine were their garments. As she watched, one of them bade the man sing something more suitable to the summer garden scene. The bard began some long and lovely French chanson – surely a vital addition to his Welsh repertoire, she reflected. He could not keep a full belly with only Welsh songs to offer, much less have a place at this king’s court.

“He waits now in the chapel, where Edward will come soon. Was last night the guard brought him, yet Edward would have him wait and catch him unawares, in hopes of surprising truth from him.”