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Cheers erupted even more loudly than before.

“You’d best join Maredudd at the head table,” Gwilym said. “The men will expect your participation this night.”

Rhys glanced at the animated faces of the men seated at tables around the room. As much as he wished it otherwise, Gwilym was right. His discussion with Catrin would have to wait.

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Catrin’s gaze moved from the men laughing across from her to Glyn and Nerys quietly conferring at her right to the portion of barley bread on the platter before her. Indeed, she was happy to study anything or anyone other than the man currently sitting at the head table between his two younger brothers. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she berated herself for being such a fool. Had she truly believed Rhys ap Tudor would single her out amidst this room full of devoted followers? Apart from his initial shocked reaction at seeing her for the first time, he had assiduously avoided looking at her all evening. His obvious apathy hurt more than she was willing to admit, but she refused to let it show. Sliding the trencher closer to Nerys, she rose to her feet.

Her friend looked up questioningly. “You are leaving?”

She nodded. “It has been only two days since Bleddyn was on his sickbed. I should not leave him to manage a full stable alone.”

“Now that the men are returned, there are others who can help in the stable. It should not fall to you.”

Catrin reached for the cloak she had set beneath the bench and set it across her shoulders. “I am happy to be with the horses, and the men deserve this night together.” Nerys opened her mouth to argue the point, but Catrin’s mind was made up. She did not have Seren to talk to, but being in the stable would surely help assuage her despondency and help her determine the direction she should take from here. “It is well,” she reassured her friend. “I shall not be gone overly long.”

Nerys gave a reluctant nod, and Catrin slipped away.

Hugging the wall, she stayed in the shadows as she moved quickly and quietly across the room. When she reached the door, she lifted the latch, opened it just wide enough to squeeze through, then closed it softly behind herself. The moon shone down, coating the outside world with a silver sheen and lighting her way to the stable door.

She stepped inside to the familiar sounds and smells of a busy stable. A lantern shed a soft glow over the area near the door, and farther back, another lantern shone.

“Bleddyn.” She called his name softly.

A few feet away, the young man’s head popped up between two horses. “Catrin?”

“Have you eaten?” She moved close enough to see him more clearly.

He shook his head. “Not yet. But I have only to groom Marshal Rhys’s horse before I can join the banquet.”

“Go now,” Catrin said, reaching for the brush. “I will finish for you.”

Bleddyn hesitated, and she could almost hear the battle raging in his mind between what he wanted to do and what he felt he ought to do. “You’ve been good to help these past few days, but now that I’m well again, I must not shirk my responsibilities.”

“I know you are much improved, but you must eat and rest to keep up your strength.” She stroked Castan’s neck. “Besides, Castan and I are old friends and will enjoy becoming reacquainted.”

Bleddyn eyed the door, then looked back at her. “You are sure?”

“I am sure,” Catrin said with a laugh. “Go.”

“He’s had his feed,” Bleddyn said, already backing away.

Catrin waved the brush at him. “I know what must be done.”

He grinned, opened the door, and disappeared into the night. Catrin turned back to Castan. The horse was watching her with liquid brown eyes.

“I am happy you are returned, Castan, for I have sorely missed my talks with Seren.” She started brushing the stallion’s chestnut coat, and he snorted. “Ah, you believe you are an equally good listener, do you?” She gave him an affectionate pat. “Well, we shall see.”

There was something extremely soothing about running a brush over the horse’s coat, and as Catrin talked softly to him, her tension began to dissipate. Before long, she was completely absorbed in her work, and when she heard the stable door open again, she did not look up.

“Are you finished with your meal so soon?” she asked.

“I believe I have had sufficient.”

Catrin’s heart missed a beat. Lowering the brush in her hand, she slowly turned to face the approaching man. He entered the circle of lamplight, and his eyes met hers. The air crackled between them.

“Good evening, Rhys,” she managed.