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“They do not know of the danger that surrounds her.”

“Which is why we are going to tell them,” Knud said, lifting the sack over his shoulder.

Leif met his eyes. “You are sure of this? I believe it fair to say that Iago’s brief message increased the level of danger at the castle significantly. You have Frida at home and—”

“I’d rather face Cadwgan and his Norse-made knife than Frida wielding a wooden spoon if she were to learn that I’d let you enter that place alone,” he said. “And since I fail miserably at keeping secrets from her, I fear you are stuck with me.”

Leif reached for the door, his gratitude manifest in a grin. “Mayhap we should find you a tree to climb.”

Rhiannon watched the groom lead her mount away. Ahead of him, Dai was guiding Cadwgan’s horse into the stable. She had hoped to speak with Dai—to warn him of the danger he was in if his ability to identify one of the fleeing assailants became known—but Cadwgan had demanded her old friend’s attention the moment they had arrived back at the castle, and it had been impossible to exchange a private word.

“Come.” Gwenllian stepped up beside her and took her arm. “If we return to our rooms directly, we shall have a little time to rest before we are expected in the great hall.” Fatigue showed in her eyes. “I confess I had not anticipated how much our outing would tire me.”

Rhiannon began walking with her toward the inner courtyard.

“I daresay a short respite before the banquet would be wise,” she said, even though it was the last thing on her mind.

After having awoken so early this morning, Rhiannon’s need for sleep was as great as Gwenllian’s, but her need to speak with the king was greater. And the best time to do it would be before everyone was gathered together.

“Do you think your father will have finished meeting with Cadell by now?” she asked.

Gwenllian glanced at the south tower anxiously. “I cannot tell. They undoubtedly had many matters to discuss, and it will likely depend upon whether they are of similar minds on those subjects.” She stumbled over a cobblestone, righting herself quickly. “I am not so witless as people think, Rhiannon. I am well aware that they will be discussing the possibility of another marriage.”

Rhiannon squeezed her arm. “What are your feelings on the subject?”

“Does it matter?”

“To me, it matters very much.”

Her lower lip quivered. “I loved Anarawd and will not soon forget him.”

“That is how it should be, I think.”

Gwenllian nodded, offering her a sad smile. “And yet, for me, life must continue. And the best way forward is to marry and secure an alliance for my father’s kingdom.” She looked away. “Cadell and Anarawd had diverse interests, but in essentials, Cadell is a good man. I believe I could be happy if I were married to him.”

Rhiannon kept silent for a moment, wishing things were different for both of them. “He is grieving a brother just as you are grieving a bridegroom,” she said softly. “Mayhap there can be some bonding in that.”

“That is my hope.” Gwenllian sighed. “No matter what lies ahead, we all need hope, do we not?”

They entered the tower and started up the stairs. The pendant Leif had given Rhiannon shifted against her chest as she moved. She bit her lip. Gwenllian was correct. She must cling to hope. Hope that Owain Gwynedd would listen. Hope that the message she’d given Iago would reach Leif. And hope that upon its receipt, Leif would know how to act.

Seemingly of its own volition, her hand moved to her chest, her fingers tracing the shape of the silver wave beneath her gown. Desperately, she wished that Cadwgan’s dastardly scheme could be undone and that she would be spared from marriage to such a man. And deep in her heart, she prayed that Leif would be the one to put an end to both.

The passage was empty.

Rhiannon walked to the door of Gwenllian’s chambers. “I will leave you here so that you may rest,” she said.

“You have my thanks,” Gwenllian said. “For everything.”

Rhiannon kissed her cheek. “I shall see you ’ere long in the great hall, and you will be refreshed and resplendent, as always.”

“As always?” Gwenllian raised her eyebrows. “You seem to be suffering from a very poor memory.”

“Even if that were so, I have been told that a poor memory is often considered a great asset.”

With a small laugh, Gwenllian opened the door. “You are good for me, Rhiannon.”

Rhiannon smiled. “Rest well.”