“We’ve been waiting for you,” Isabelle said quietly.

Gwen didn’t miss the way she spoke. Confident in her statement but whispering as if she wished not to say it. “I don’t understand. How could you be waiting for me?”

“I’ve said too much. Come, let’s get you settled.”

Isabelle started leading her, but Gwen stopped her. “You’ve really said nothing. Now, I insist, tell me what you meant,” Gwen demanded.

Isabelle remained silent a moment as if not sure where to begin, then it all poured out. “We knew you would come last night, Gwendolyn. Well, that’s not exactly true. I knew you would come,” she said with supreme confidence, “but Greylen suffered greatly throughout the day. He was sure he’d been fooled. Well, perhaps fooled isn’t the right word.” Gwen imagined Isabelle tapping a finger against her cheek. “Mayhap tricked—nay, not tricked—betrayed. Aye.” Gwen felt the motion as Isabelle held up her finger. “Betrayed. He all but killed most of the men, and his looks…good God, no one wanted to go near him. And no matter how many times I told Gavin the storm would come—” Isabelle stopped midsentence, making Gwen wonder if Anna’s mouth was agape like hers.

“Greylen almost killed his men?” Gwen asked. “What men? Why?”

“The soldiers, Gwendolyn,” Isabelle replied in a chastising tone. “Haven’t you been listening? They lined up and he beat each one, ’twas quite humiliating…for the soldiers, that is.”

“He beat them?” Were her instincts misplaced? Greylen beat men? “How?” she asked.

“With his sword, of course,” Isabelle returned in the same tone as if chastising her for not paying attention.

“What?”

“Oh my, now I’ve upset you. Please, Gwendolyn, we must sit down. You seem ready to collapse.” Isabelle rushed through the words as if she wanted to move on.

“Isabelle!” Lady Madelyn came into the room obviously having overheard most of the conversation.

Gwen heard the censure in Lady Madelyn’s voice and immediately took Isabelle’s hand. For some reason she felt the need to protect her. Gwen knew Isabelle hadn’t meant to upset her. Her honesty and need to please was obvious, endearing even. “Lady Madelyn, please don’t be upset with Isabelle. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Gwen couldn’t see Lady Madelyn’s expression soften, but she felt it in the words she spoke. “Gwendolyn, I wish only for your good health and welfare. That you come to Isabelle’s defense so quickly, well, it pleases me dearly. Especially with the tension being so thick these past few days, ’tis good to see all is, at last, as it should be.” Lady Madelyn held Gwen’s hands, leading her in front of a roaring fireplace and then guiding her to sit. She wondered if it was the same chair she sat in with Greylen last night.

Lady Madelyn saw to her wounds while continuing where she left off. “We’ve waited so long for the events of last night to unfold, Gwendolyn. I’ve known for years of the prophecy, and I believed with all my heart in its words. I’d been unsure of Greylen’s acceptance when I decided to tell him of its existence.” She paused as if remembering. “But I made the right decision. If only I’d known how long he’d silently suffered. He’d actually considered himself mad.”