‘I’m sure you were,’ Seren said. She was fascinated. This had to be the true story, at last.

‘My name was Mordecai Marchmain.’

Tomos choked on a chuckle. Seren pressed both her lips together tight so she wouldn’t even smile.

‘That’s an unusual name,’ she said.

‘It’s a very old and distinguished family.’ The Crow drew itself up with pride. ‘We are certainly descended directly – in the maternal line – from Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd himself. So I may be, if you think about it, actually, a Prince of Wales.’

Seren nodded. It was important not to interrupt him now.

‘So … I … er … I was very fond of a young lady. She was the daughter of the local squire, and extremely pretty, though perhaps not the most clever of girls. Anyway, one day I was on my way to Llangollen for the day and I was unwise enough to ask her what she would like me to bring her back for a present. I expected her to say a brooch, or some trinket. But she asked for a white rose.’

‘Well, that’s not difficult.’

‘It is if it’s the middle of winter! There was snow on the ground, for goodness sake!’ The Crow shook its head. ‘I asked her to choose something else but she wouldn’t. She kept on that it was a test of my devotion and if I truly loved her I would get it and all that sort of nonsense. Now, of course, I would think her extremely foolish but then I was young and, er, rather in love.’

Tomos grinned at Seren. She frowned back.

‘Well, it was a difficult journey to Llangollen through the snow, and after I had completed my business, I tried the shops and markets there but, of course, there was no such thing as a white rose to be had for any amount of money. I bought her a box of truffles and set off back home. By this time, it was very late, almost midnight and snowing heavily. I had snow in my eyes and hair and on my face, and it was impossible even to see the way. After about an hour or so I found myself on a track deep in a gloomy wood. I came to a crossroads where four lanes met. There was no signpost, so I guessed and took what I thought was the right path. That was a mistake! Soon I was completely lost. I was trudging down tiny winding ways that seemed to lead nowhere but around on themselves as if I was walking in ever smaller circles. The snow was getting deeper. I was quite worn out, and rather afraid I would just die in that wood. And then, suddenly, there was a high stone wall, with a door in it.’

‘What did you do?’ Tomos asked.

The Crow fixed him with a glare. ‘What do you think, silly boy? I made my way to the door. It was banked with snow and brambles, as if no one ever opened it, which was not at all comforting. There was a bell-pull; I pulled it, but heard no jangle, and no one came. I was shivering and there was snow on my shoulders. I had no choice. So I…’