“Not yet. A fact which she reminds us of often.”
Eirlys laughed as she handed him a plateful of stew and patted her own rounded stomach. “I know just how she feels, but tell her it will not last forever. And then she may wish for those quieter days.” Another child, who looked to be about a year old, sat blinking up at him from a seat next to his mother’s, his face covered in food.
Arne nodded, wishing he had been able to spend more time with Einar as he’d grown up, but so many things had prevented it. He had made those choices; he had no right to have regrets.
“Come and sit.” Eirlys gestured to a seat next to the fire beside her and he sat. She was not nearly as far along as Ylva. “Ylva will be a better mother than she expects.”
Arne blinked, then realised he agreed with her. Ylva would be far from conventional, but she knew how to love. “I think you’re right. And I hope she realises what a precious gift she has been given.”
“I’m sure she will. Do you have children of your own?”
Arne stared into the fire, then lifted his head to look directly at her. “Yes. A son. Although I have a lot to make up for when it comes to raising him.” A surge of emotion welled up inside him when he acknowledged his son aloud, quickly followed by regret that he had not done so sooner.
“You and his mother are not together?”
“She is dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Arne said. “It is thanks to her I have these scars.”
Eirlys looked horrified, and Merfyn cleared his throat. “I am sure Arne has not come all this way to discuss his domestic situation. So, Arne, why have you come? You said you had been to Perthawc.”
“I was returning the missing princess.”
Merfyn and Eirlys exchanged a look. Did they think they had held her captive? Or hurt her in some way? Ironic when she had been more concerned about her own people harming her than his.
“Princess Maithgemm has been with you?” Merfyn asked.
“She was sent to us by Lord Cenydd,” Arne said.
Eirlys’s shoulders relaxed and she handed Arne a mug of ale but Merfyn was still frowning.
“I see. And did she wish to return to her brother in Perthawc, or were you in search of the reward?”
Arne laughed then took a swig of ale. “I can assure you, if she had refused to return to her brother, then we would not have done so, but—”
“But?”
“But I was not going to turn down Rhun’s offered reward. We did go to some effort to return her and her son safely.”
“So, Lord Caelin is still with her?” Eirlys asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. We were worried about the boy. Marcant… well, there are so many rumours that he planned to put Caelin on the throne.”
“This is well known?”
Merfyn and Eirlys nodded.
“Rumours,” Merfyn clarified.
“Do you think Caelin will be safe with his uncle?” Arne asked, still wishing he had not had to leave without having any way of guaranteeing their safety.
Merfyn was silent. “I don’t know. Rhun may seek to ensure Caelin can never become king. Especially now Marcant is back.”
“But if Rhun thinks Marcant is now loyal to him, then Caelin is less of a risk,” Eirlys assured him.
