"Our loyalty is to our prince first, my lord," Oth told him honestly. "We are Welsh, not English."

"If the day comes when there is war between our peoples again," Edward said, "I will expect you gone without my saying it. I understand your loyalty, so I know you understand mine. Until that day, however, your loyalties must be with me, at least in part. Are we agreed?"

"The lady…" Oth began.

"Is my wife, and her loyalty, as you may ask her, lies with me now. As for the lad, that will be his choice to make. Be certain he does not forget his own tongue should he ever need it one day."

"You are more than fair, my lord," Oth replied, and he bowed.

Glynn's life now had more structure, and like his sister when she had first left Cythraul, he chafed at it. He was required to be at early mass with Rhonwyn. After he broke his fast he was schooled for several hours in a variety of subjects by Father John. Only in mid-afternoon was he free to ride or follow his own pursuits. Learning to read and write was for him a joy. Now he could copy the words to the songs he created onto parchment for all to see. With his brother-in-law's aid his manners became polished and elegant. Regular meals and plenty of food caused him to fill out and grow a bit taller.

One afternoon as he and Rhonwyn sat their horses atop a hill in view of Haven, she said to him, "I believe you are truly happy, Glynn, for the first time in your life."

The boy thought a moment, and then he said, "Aye, sister, I am; and I am not afraid any longer. I was always afraid at Cythraul, especially after you left. Are you happy, Rhonwyn? Edward seems a kind man, but there appears to be little between you."

"We are only getting to know one another," Rhonwyn said to him. "I am told that marriages are always arranged affairs. There is an advantage to each side. Ours was a marriage devised as a matter of good faith between two warring parties. England wed to Wales. My husband and I are yet strangers. Now enough; I just have time for sword practice with Oth before the evening meal. Come on, little brother! I'll race you home," she cried, and spurred Hardd into a gallop.

From the castle heights Edward observed them as they sped down the hill and across meadows, scattering the sheep as they came. Unable to help himself, he chuckled. His wife was a changed person since the arrival of her younger brother. The love between the two had made him jealous until he realized that her love for Glynn was almost maternal. She had watched over the boy her whole life and felt responsible for his well-being. And the lad was certainly no trouble. He sopped up knowledge eagerly, being a very quick study. Rhonwyn had been correct when she said he was a gentle soul not fit for a soldier's life. He was now writing poems in the Norman tongue that he put to music.

Edward watched as Glynn and Rhonwyn entered the courtyard, dismounting their animals. Oth came forward with a padded garment, helping Rhonwyn to don it. Fascinated, Edward observed his wife as she was handed her sword, one that had obviously been made just for her hand. She began to practice her moves beneath the eye of the Welshman. Edward could hear him directing her sternly.

"You're out of shape, lady. Think! Think! And follow your instincts else you find yourself dead of your own carelessness." Oth picked up his own sword and began to block her blows. "That's it, lady!" He leapt aside, dodging her thrust. "You didn't anticipate that, lady! Ow!" He jumped back, swearing softly.

"And you didn't anticipate that!" She grinned at him, lowering her weapon. "I didn't hurt you, did I? It was just a tap, Oth."

"You're beginning to remember," he said with a rueful smile. "All right now, back to our practice, my fine lady."

The lord of Haven watched for a time as his beautiful wife turned into a warrior before his eyes. This was another side of Rhonwyn he had not anticipated. He found himself excited by this new knowledge, but he wasn't certain he approved. Surely such mannish activities could harm her abilities to bear him children. For now, however, he held his peace.

Rhonwyn was such a complex creature, and he really did want to know her better, but he was finding that it was not easy. They seemed to coexist, but nothing more. With Alfred's help she was learning how to manage the household. With Father John's aid she was becoming charitable to the less fortunate. His servants and his people liked her well. It was only he who seemed to be shut out of her life, although she was certainly polite and thoughtful of his well-being. But he had not entered her bed since their wedding night five months ago.

He wanted children, and it was certainly her duty to give him heirs; but each time he attempted to touch her, Rhonwyn shied away from him, distress all over her beautiful face. They could not go on like this, and if she would not make the first move, he would have to do so. But he needed to choose his moment carefully lest he repel her even more. He needed to be alone with her, without her brother and his two Welsh watchdogs. Then fate intervened in the person of Father John.

"I should like to take Glynn to Shrewsbury," the priest told his lord one evening as they sat at the high board. "He has never seen a town, and as you know, my lord, it is a fine one." He turned to Rhonwyn, knowing her approval was paramount. "There is an abbey of monks, lady, and many churches and shops. Trading vessels come up the Severn from Bristol, for the river is very navigable. Oth and Dewi would, of course, come with us. There are many Welsh who visit the town regularly, and so they would not stand out at all."

"What think you, Rhonwyn?" Edward asked her. "And you, Glynn? Would you enjoy such an educational journey?"

"Oh, I very much want to go, Edward!" the boy said enthusiastically. He looked to his sister. "Rhonwyn, please say I may."

"Perhaps I shall go with you," Rhonwyn said thoughtfully. "I have never seen a town either, little brother."

Glynn's face fell. "Oh, do you want to go?" he said, his dismay very evident. This was obviously a trip he and the priest had previously planned.

Edward leaned over to murmur in his wife's little ear, "He is growing up, Rhonwyn. This is the first time in his life he has been treated as he should be. As a prince's son should be. His tutor wants to take him on a brief journey. I don't think he wants his big sister with him, as much as he may love you."

She had never before considered that Glynn would grow up. He was her baby brother whom she had always watched over and protected. She bad brought him to Haven and expanded his world. Now, like a little bird, he wanted to leave the nest to fly on his own. It came as somewhat of a shock. Surely he wasn't ready yet! Then she realized that Edward's large hand was covering hers in a comforting gesture. She turned her gaze to him, and he smiled at her encouragingly.

"I will take you to Shrewsbury myself one day," he promised her in a soft voice only she could hear.

Rhonwyn sighed deeply, and then she turned to her brother. "How long would you be gone?" she asked him.

"Just a week, no longer," Glynn replied.

"You must be certain no one knows you are the prince's son," she warned him.

"He can be known as Glynn of Thorley, a young relation of mine," Edward said. "It will be assumed he is my son by one of my former mistresses. In the care of the castle priest, it will be presumed that his mother is dead, which is, of course, a truth."

" 'Tis a grand idea!" the boy said enthusiastically. "When can we leave, Father John?"

"Would tomorrow be too soon, my son?" came the answer, and Glynn cheered. His sister, unable to help herself, smiled.

"You must have Oth and Dewi with you at all times," she said firmly, "and you will obey Father John without question, Glynn. If I learn you have been a wicked rascal, there shall be no more trips, my lad, I promise you," Rhonwyn sternly warned her brother.

He grinned at her happily, and the following morning he rode off with his little party with nought but a scant wave for his sister. To her surprise, Rhonwyn began to weep, and Edward, who was with her, put an arm about her shoulders. For once she did not shrug him off.

"There, wife, he will be back soon," he reassured her.

"He is growing up," she admitted. "Oh, Edward, what shall I do when he goes off for good one day? I am so used to looking after him. What will I do?" she repeated.

"You will raise our children to be every bit the fine young man your brother is becoming, Rhonwyn," he told her.

"Our children?" She swallowed. "We have no children, my lord."

"Nor the hope of any unless we can together overcome your fears, Rhonwyn," he said quietly. "Our wedding night was a cruel time for you, but it was necessary for all the reasons that you well know. By the rood, wife, would you have your father still living with us?" he teased her as they walked back into the hall.

"Mary's blood, no!" she exclaimed.

He chuckled. "Do you think you know me well enough, my wild Welsh wife, that you will let me into your bed again? With your brother away it is the perfect time for us to attempt our reunion."

"Let me think on it," she said low.

"You have had almost six months to think on it, Rhonwyn," he told her, a slight edge to his voice. What the hell was the matter with her?

"Will you force me again, my lord?" she said angrily. "I know I cannot hope to overcome your strength, but I will hate you for it! I do not know if I can bear to be so possessed again."

"When passion is felt by both lovers, Rhonwyn, both are possessed, and the pleasure is sublime, I promise you," he responded patiently, yet he was impatient. Whenever the matter of conjugal relations came up, she behaved as if he were a monster.

"I felt pain and fear and loathing on our wedding night, my lord," she told him frankly. "I hated it when you covered my body with yours. I was helpless to your lusts, and there was no escaping it. I do not know if I can feel any other way."

"We do not have to mate at first, Rhonwyn," he said. "We will begin slowly, by touching. You are as free to touch me as I am to touch you, wife. We need not be in our bed or even unclothed at first. I do not think you would be fearful then."

"Does it always hurt?" she asked him pointedly.

"Nay. The first time when a maiden's virtue is taken from her, aye. But once she is used to her husband's lance sheathing itself on'a regular basis, nay. There is no pain," he promised her.

Rhonwyn was thoughtful for a time. She didn't know if she could ever overcome her distaste for this passion of his, but for his sake she must try. Edward was a good man, and he had been very patient. "Can you bear to go slowly, my lord?" she asked him.

"I must for your sake," he replied honestly.

"Then I will try," she said.

"Why are you so fearful?"

Rhonwyn shrugged. "I cannot say," she told him. "I know what you want is a natural thing, particularly between a man and his wife, but 1 felt so powerless on our wedding night. Never before did I feel so impotent, and I never again want to feel that way, Edward. I will never forget seeing my mother helpless to ap Gruffydd's passions, not that she seemed to mind. Her whole existence was for him, so I was left to take care of myself and Glynn. It is true my kinsman and the men of Cythraul had charge over us, but I was my own mistress. I wanted to ride, and they taught me. I wanted to learn how to use a sword; they taught me. They even taught me how to dice, although they were reluctant to do so, especially afterward when I beat them. I was always in charge of my own being. Yet when we consummated our marriage, I was not in control of myself. You were in control, and I could not bear it." She bit her lower lip in vexation. "I am sorry, Edward. I truly am."

"But it is a man's place to lead," he said slowly, trying to understand her point of view, but he really didn't. Why could she not be obedient? He was half in love with her yet he did not know if he could be happy with a woman who constantly questioned him, and would not do her duty by him.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why? Because that is the way it has always been, Rhonwyn. Is that not what the church teaches? And did not God create Adam, the man, first?" he said somewhat tersely.

"And realizing his error," Rhonwyn replied quickly, "he created Eve, the woman, or so my aunt the abbess says."

"You are too independent for a wife," he said, shaking his head in mock despair, unable to be angry with her.