Madoc came forward as the litter approached the gate. He threw a quick glance of curiosity at the prince, with no sign of apprehension or even interest (so no rumour’s got through yet about the marriage, thought Alice), then with the barest of salutes to Alice, he hurried to the side of the litter.

“Cousin! Be welcome!” It was the greeting of a kinsman and of an equal, rather than that of a guest to his returning host. The duke, with some formally courteous reply, held out his ringed hand, and Madoc, after the briefest of pauses, bent his head and kissed it, then asked with a look of keen anxiety, and a voice raised to reach into the farthest corner of the courtyard: “But you are ill? Injured in some way? Your messenger gave us no news of this. By the gods, dear cousin, it’s as well I have been here to see to things for you –”

“Neither ill nor hurt in any way, I thank you.” The cool tones carried just as far. “Only older, and more easily tired than I was used to be. If you will lend me your hand?”

So it was that the duke, showing no sign of his recent weakness, walked steadily and in stately fashion into the courtyard on the arm of his kinsman, closely followed by his own party. Count Madoc’s men had perforce to bring up the rear. And when the duke came to the great steps and freed himself to receive the smiling greetings and enquiries of his people, Madoc could only fall back as the welcoming crowd pressed forward, and watch while the duke, with Alice and the young stranger, mounted to the head of the steps and turned to face the thronged courtyard.

There was no need to ask for silence. Not a man there but was eager to know who this young stranger was, with the travel-stained clothes and the bearing of a prince, and the sword of a prince glittering at his hip. And not a woman there but had already seen the ring on Alice’s hand, and noted the brightness of her eyes, and had come to the correct conclusion.

The duke spoke easily, as one would to friends. “Forgive me for being brief, but it’s true I have ailed a little recently, and a journey is tiring for a man of my years. But now that I am here, in my home, and with you all, I need fear no evil. The more so as I have great news for you.” He took Alexander lightly by the hand and brought him forward a pace, with Alice, to stand beside him. “Let me present to you the man who, after me, will rule here at Castle Rose. He is the husband of your lady, my daughter Alice, and his name is Alexander. He is Prince Alexander, only son of Prince Baudouin of Cornwall and of the Lady Anna of Craig Arian in the valley of the Wye … No, a moment more, good people! A moment more! The first to kiss my daughter’s cheek and to welcome the bridegroom must be my dear kinsman, Count Madoc, who has ruled in my place while I was gone. Madoc?”