Elle sighed heavily. “Melly does not consider that some men have honest hearts,” she said. “Especially the English. I suppose she came to the only reasonable conclusion she could.”
“But?”
“But I still won’t let her get away with it!”
He chuckled and released her. “I think she received your message, loudly and clearly,” he said. “But in the future, a princess of Powys does not attack people when she does not like what they say.”
Straightening her dress, Elle turned to look at him. “Don’tyouattack people who say things you do not agree with?”
He shook his head. “It would have to be quite serious,” he said. “It is called controlling one’s impulses. There are things we would all like to do immediately, like slap a cousin with a wicked tongue, but often that does not solve the problem. You should have controlled that impulse.”
Elle was coming to understand what he meant. “You mean I should have asked her to clarify her statement before slapping her?”
He snorted. “Something like that,” he said. “Mayhap simply asking her and not slapping her.”
Elle grunted. “She deserved it.”
Curtis cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure she did, but next time, mayhap just ask her instead.”
Elle shrugged. “Will you bring her back now?”
Curtis shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “I need your undivided attention, if I may.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to ask you if you would show me Brython,” he said. “You would know it better than anyone, and I would appreciate you as my guide.”
It wasn’t a surprising request, but she didn’t think he would have asked her so soon. The defeat was only yesterday, after all. But it occurred to Elle that Brython now belonged to him, and he was viewing it as a prize he knew nothing about other than it was strategic. There was no heart or soul buried in it like there was with her. Resigning herself to this relationship she would soon find herself in, she wanted him to understand that Brython wasn’t just a pile of rocks to lay claim to.
It was much, much more.
“As you wish,” she said after a moment. “But before I show you, I am going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“About Brython and why the Welsh believe it is a special place.”
He nodded as if to concede her point. “Very well,” he said. “Go ahead. I am listening.”
Elle paused, thinking on how she would start the story but quickly realizing there was only one place to start.
At the beginning.
“Do you ever wonder why we fight so hard for Brython, my lord?” she asked.
Curtis shrugged. “It is strategic.”
She shook her head. “That is not why,” she said. “In truth, it has nothing to do with strategy and everything to do with our history. The fact is that Brython is sacred.”
“Why?”
“Because it sits upon an ancient gate,” she said quietly. “The gate toAnnwyn. That is the Otherworld, where our heroes dwell. It is a place where our greatest prince, Powell, lives. Someday, he will rise again and free Wales from the tyranny of those who seek to rule us. Mayhap he will not rise tomorrow, or even in one hundred years. But we believe hewillrise again, and we wait for that day. Meanwhile, we must protect the gate.”
Curtis cocked his head. “My father has native Welsh scouts who know much of Brython,” he said. “They have never told him this tale.”
She smiled faintly. “That is because it is a Welsh prophecy,” she said. “We do not share our prophecies with outworlders. That is you, in case you did not know it.”
He smiled, an ironic gesture. “I have been called worse,” he said. But he quickly sobered. “So you are telling me that the reason you have fought so viciously for Brython is because it’s a sacred site?”
