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.

"Wynne!"

She heard her grandmother's voice from a long distance, and then she was lifted up and her head fell against a hard shoulder. For a moment she floated in a nothingness, and then as she began to regain use of her body and her senses once more, she realized she was seated on a bench near the main fire pit. Opening her eyes, she saw a man's hand attached to an arm, gently, but firmly, girding her waist. Wynne gasped, and almost immediately strength flowed into her limbs.

"Are you all right, lady?" she heard a voice inquire.

"Poor child!" Wynne heard her grandmother say. "She has been so worried about the lad and his wee adventure." Enid knelt before her granddaughter. "Are you all right now, my dearie?"

Wynne's senses and mind began to function normally now. "Aye," she replied slowly. "I cannot imagine what happened to me, Grandmother. I am not a maid given to swooning as a rule." She glanced nervously again at the arm about her and immediately it was removed. Was he reading her mind, Wynne thought uneasily, remembering that it was Madoc's piercing gaze that had tumbled her into a faint. She arose from the bench and was amazed to find that her legs were functional once more. It made her nervous to think she must face him squarely again, but she had no other choice.

"My lord," she began, carefully keeping her eyes lowered modestly, "I thank you with all my heart for keeping the lord of Gwernach safe last night. Had I but known of his good fortune in finding so protective a companion, I should not have fretted so. Will you break your fast with us after the mass?"

"Gladly, lady," came the reply. The voice was deep, yet there was no roughness about it. Indeed, it was almost musical.

"So!" a voice interrupted them, "the brat is back!" Caitlin, in her best gown, a scarlet silk tunic embroidered with gold, a dark blue under tunic beneath it, came down the stairs from the solar. Behind her Dilys, also in her best, a pink and silver brocade tunic over an under tunic of deep rose, and Mair in her everyday sky blue, followed.

"Dewi is safe, Caitlin," Wynne said sweetly, but there was a faint sharpness to her tone. "Why are you both attired in your very best, I would ask?"

"Did you think we would not do Rhys of St. Bride's honor when he comes to claim you? Besides, we do not want him to forget that he has promised us husbands as well, sister." Her glance turned to Madoc, whom she eyed thoroughly, taking in the full-skirted tunic of blue-green silk brocade he wore which, although edged in a rich brown marten, was decorated simply at its neck and on its long sleeves. Still, the fine leather belt encircling his narrow waist, with its beautifully worked gold buckle richly decorated with amber, indicated a man of certain stature. "And who is this, pray?" Caitlin asked archly.

"My lord, these are my younger sisters, Caitlin and Dilys," Wynne said. "Sisters, I would present to you Madoc, a prince of Powys. He found our brother last night and sheltered him until this morning."

"Have you business at Gwernach, my lord, or are you just passing through our lands?" Caitlin demanded, asking what no one else had thought to ask.

Madoc of Powys smiled slowly, recognizing in Caitlin a possible adversary. "I have business here, lady, but not with you," he answered.

Wynne wanted to laugh, for Caitlin looked extremely put out. Instead she said, "It is time for the mass, and we have much to be thankful for this day. Our brother, Gwernach's lord, has been returned to us safely."

"And," Caitlin put in, "the lord of St, Bride's comes to claim you for his wife and give us rich husbands. Aye, I thank God for that!"

Madoc of Powys looked toward Wynne and saw that her lovely face darkened when Rhys of St. Bride's was mentioned. He smiled, almost to himself, and then followed the family from the hall to the church which was outside the walls encircling the house. Father Drew, a brown-eyed elf of a man, smiled broadly seeing Dewi, and sang the mass particularly well, to Madoc's pleasure, for the prince loved music. He complimented the priest afterward on the church porch as they were introduced, and smiled to see the old man's flush of pleasure at his words.

Wynne looked at Madoc less fearfully now, pleased by his kindness to Father Drew. He smiled back at her, and she wondered why she had had such a strange reaction to him earlier. She still had to admit that this prince made her flesh burn with an unaccustomed fire, her heart beat faster, her toes and the soles of her feet tingle mysteriously. She had never before felt this way, and she wondered why Madoc had such an odd effect upon her. Still, he did not seem like a wicked man.

"Come," she said, remembering her duties as mistress of Gwernach, "let us return to the hall and break our fast."

"Right gladly, sister," Dewi said. "Remember that I had no supper last night and I am.famished!"

"Serves you right," Caitlin said meanly. "You frightened us badly."

"What?" Dewi mocked her. "Do not tell me that you gave me a moment's thought, Caitlin, for I will not believe you. You think of no one but yourself, and if you did by chance think of me, it was merely that my premature death would put you in mourning, forcing you to wait to make a rich marriage."

Briefly, Caitlin looked outraged, but then to her credit, she laughed. "Aye," she said. "You are probably right, brother."

"I prayed to St. David for you, Dewi," Mair lisped softly.

"So 'twas you who kept me safe, my little dearling," Dewi said generously, ruffling his smallest sister's soft hair. "God always hears the prayers of the good."

"But I prayed to St. David!" Mair said firmly.

"And St. David prays to God," Father Drew replied, settling the matter for the child.

"Ohh," Mair answered, her eyes wide.

They were all so enchanted by the child as they walked toward the house that they did not hear the sound of approaching horses until the beasts were practically upon them.