"I will not sleep a wink!" Wynne vowed, but she was tired. Her day in the forest as well as the strain she had been under these last few weeks were taking their toll now that she had finally reached her decision. She made her usual rounds, checking to be certain that all was secure for the night, and then she climbed the stairs to the family solar. Softly she tiptoed across the floor to her own bed. Caitlin and Dilys shared a bed, and their snores from behind the drawn curtains were loud. Wynne smiled to herself thinking how horrified they would be to be told that they snored.

Mair slept on the trundle of their grandmother's bed. Wynne smiled down at the youngest of them, her little cheeks flushed with her good health, the tendrils of soft brown hair curling about her face, the little thumb that was half in, half out of Mair's tiny rosebud mouth. Then turning away, she began to undress, carefully folding her under tunic and tunic dress away in her chest; drawing out the garments she would wear on the morrow and laying them out neatly over the chest. Sitting down upon her bed, she drew off her soft boots and set them aside. Reaching for her brush which was beneath her pillow, she slowly brushed her long, dark black hair free of its one thick braid. Then with a sigh she drew the bed curtains shut and slipped beneath the coverlet.

For some time she lay awake, her mind a jumble of mixed thoughts that would not be silenced. Then firmly, but not without difficulty, she pushed her thoughts away, clearing her head of everything but her prayers. As they came to an end, Wynne found herself slipping into a relaxed sleep. Dewi would be all right. Her initial panic over, she allowed her instincts to guide her and she felt no threat to her little brother. Indeed, she sensed now that he was quite safe. And not alone.

Wynne sat up, suddenly fully awake. Why had she thought that? Yanking the curtains open, she discovered that the dawn was already beginning to lighten the edges of the sky beyond the windows. It was near to morning, and she had obviously been sleeping for several hours, although it did not feel as if she had. What had awakened her? She could not remember, and lay very still listening for the sound that had surely stirred her to consciousness; but everything was quite still. Caitlin, Dilys, and her grandmother were all snoring now. Mair continued to sleep peacefully on her trundle bed. There was no sound from the hall below. Even the birds had not yet begun their early song.

It was obvious that she was not going to go back to sleep, and so Wynne arose quietly, shivering in the cool air, for she wore only her sheer, soft linen chemise. She walked across the solar to a small stone alcove that held an earthenware basin and a pitcher of water. In the winter the water often froze overnight, but in late spring it was simply icy cold. Pouring some of the contents of the pitcher into the basin, she washed her face and hands, and scrubbed her teeth with a piece of rough cloth, dipping the cloth in a mixture of pumice and mint she kept for the purpose. Rinsing both her mouth and the cloth, she opened the small window in the alcove and threw the dirty water away. The day looked to be fair, though there was a mist right now.

Moving back to the trunk at the foot of her bed, she began to dress. First an under tunic of indigo-blue with long, close-fitting sleeves that fell to her ankles, and then a shorter knee-length overtunic of bright green with long sleeves embroidered in pretty bands of gold thread on the wide cuffs which ended at her narrow wrists. It was her best gown, and Wynne girded the overtunic with a belt of gilded leather with a silver-gilt buckle set with a particularly fine piece of crystal that had just the faintest blush to it. Opening her trunk, she took out a pair of soft leather shoes made to follow the shape of her narrow foot. Today she would do Rhys of St. Bride's honor by looking her best when he came for the answer she knew she must give him.

Digging deeper into the trunk, Wynne drew forth a small carved box and, opening it, removed a pair of pear-shaped crystal earrings which she affixed in her ears. Sitting herself upon her bed, she brushed the tangles from her hair and carefully braided it into the single, thick braid she favored, tying the end with a small piece of green ribbon. It was custom that young girls wore their hair loose and flowing, restrained only by a ribbon band until marriage; but Wynne had taken to braiding her hair in an effort to appear older when she found herself responsible for her family and having to do business with strangers. She was proud of her thick, long hair which, when loosened from its woven confinement, blossomed about her like a night cloud. It was, she was certain, her best feature; and she was relieved that the unpleasant custom of cutting one's hair short immediately after a first marriage to show servitude to the bridegroom had finally been discontinued. Cut her beautiful tresses? Never!

She removed a final item of jewelry from her little box. It was a particularly beautiful circular gold pendant, enameled in greens and blues and attached to a heavy red-gold chain. The design was Celtic. Both the chain and pendant had come from Ireland. Her father had received it in exchange for a large shipment of cheeses many years before, when Wynne was but a child. The pendant had fascinated her, and, even though it had been an extremely valuable piece, Owain ap Llywelyn had gifted his eldest child with it simply because she loved it. It was rare, he noted to Margiad, that Wynne desired anything of earthly value. The girl treasured the pendant, but even more now that her father was gone. She always felt that Owain was with her when she wore it, but more, she had always felt the pendant belonged to her from the first moment she had seen it.

Ready to face her day, Wynne departed the solar. Below in the hall a few household serfs were bestirring themselves and lighting the fires in the fire pits. Through the open door of the house she could see smoke rising from the bakehouse chimney and nodded, pleased. Rhys would have to be asked to dinner, and judging from his last visit, he was a big man with a bigger appetite. They would need all the breads and cakes her baker could produce this day.

Einion spoke at her elbow. "It will be a fair day, lady, and as the young lord has not yet returned, the holy father and I will gather together a party of men that we may seek him out and bring him home."

Wynne felt a momentary surge of guilt. She had completely forgotten Dewi! "Aye, and I shall beat him well for this," she told Einion firmly. "Lord of Gwernach or no, he is still a lad of ten and under my rule. He has shown a deplorable lack of feeling for us all with this prank! Tell him to expect to feel my hazel switch on his bottom once Rhys of St. Bride's is gone. I will not embarrass the lord of Gwernach before another, but he will be punished."

"Who will be punished?" Dewi ap Owain stood just within the doorway of the hall.

"Dewi!" Wynne shrieked, and racing across the floor, gathered her little brother into her arms, hugging him soundly until he fought his way free of her embrace. "Thank God, and His blessed Mother, and our own St. David, that you are alive and well!" Wynne half sobbed.

"Who will be punished?" Dewi repeated, shaking himself like a puppy.

"You! You thoughtless scamp!" his eldest sister told him. "You have given us a terrible fright and a worse night worrying about you. How could you go off like that, Dewi! I was terrified!"

"I went birding," Dewi told her calmly. "I have been going birding by myself since I was six. There's a merlin's nest nearby, and I've been watching it, for I intend taking one of the hatchlings to train for you as a wedding gift."

"Oh, Dewi!" Wynne's eyes grew teary, but then she said heatedly, "But why did you not come home last night?"

"Because I was so fascinated watching the merlin's hatch-lings that the night overtook me," he said somewhat irritably, sounding as if she might have certainly figured it out by herself without him to tell her. "Do you think I enjoyed my night in the damp and chill, sister? If it had not been for Madoc I should have gone hungry as well."

"Madoc?" Wynne sounded puzzled, and then she realized that a man stood next to her brother. As her startled gaze met the stranger's, Wynne felt her body suffused by a fiery heat, and for the longest moment she could not seem to draw a breath.

It mattered not, however, for all attention was drawn away from her by Enid, who hurried down the stairs from the family solar, her saffron and violet robes billowing about her as she came. "Dewi! My child! Praise God and St. David you are back safely."

"Good morrow, Grandmother," the boy said. "May I introduce my friend, Madoc of Powys. We met last night," the boy said wryly.

Enid hugged her grandson and then she looked up at his companion, studying him carefully for a long moment. "You are Madoc of Powys Wenwynwyn, my lord, are you not?" she said finally.

"I am, lady."

"I thank you for seeing to the safety of my grandson, and I welcome you to Gwernach, my lord prince, even as my granddaughter, Wynne, would have done."

"Prince?" Wynne had regained her ability to breathe and to speak, and her eyes again met those of Madoc's; but this time he refused to allow her to look away.

He had wonderful eyes, oval-shaped and a deep blue with black, bushy eyebrows, and thick black eyelashes that any woman would have envied, but yet there was nothing feminine about them. For a moment she felt as if she were drowning in the depths of those blue eyes. She could not look away, and, finally in desperation, she closed her own eyes, feeling faint, her heart hammering violently even as her legs began to give way beneath her.