Mercia."
"I
see," he said softly, after a time, very still. "My felicitations.
Prince Cerdic is very wealthy... and handsome, I have heard."
"Oh,
Gwydion!" The cry was low and anguished. "Have you nothing more to
say to me than that?"
"What
more is there
to say than that, Rhowenna?" he asked, a muscle flexing in his set jaw,
his voice rough with feeling. Then, glimpsing the expression upon her
countenance, his own face and his tone gentled. "I'm sorry. Did you dare
to dream for us, then? I didn't know. You never said—" Gwydion broke off
abruptly, striving visibly to master his emotions. Then, after a moment, he
continued quietly. "I was not so brave, you see. I never dared to hope
that there could ever be anything more between us than what we already share.
You are princess of Usk, Rhowenna... and not for the likes of me, with no
kingdom to call my own. Did you truly think that 'twould prove otherwise?"
"I—
I don't know. Oh, I suppose that deep down inside, I knew better. But... oh,
Gwydion! You are right! I did dare to dream! And now... now, all is
changed, and will never be the same again. When you went away for your
fostering, you knew you would return, but I won't be coming back, Gwydion. I
will have to spend the rest of my life among the Saxon wolves east of Offa's
Dyke, with a husband who is a stranger to me...." Her voice, sad and
bitter, trailed away as she uttered the painful thought aloud, making it seem,
finally, real and not just some dreadful misunderstanding or an event so far
distant as to appear unlikely.
"
'Tis small comfort, I know, but strategically, from Usk's point of view, an
alliance with Mercia is the wisest course of action, Rhowenna, considering the
nature of the attack upon your father this past winter. We can no longer trust
Glamorgan or Gwent to keep to its own boundaries. To launch an assault against
Usk, Mercia would have to send its armies across Offa's Dyke and the river
Severn both, so we would have ample warning of their approach and time to
prepare to hold out against them. That means they would be the lesser threat
and a more desirable ally."
"I
know, I know. My own mind tells me the truth of your words, Gwydion. 'Tis my
heart that rebels and calls them lies and wishes I were only a plain serving
maid instead of princess of Usk, to be bartered away as the price of a
treaty!"
"And
I wish I were a prince worthy of your hand, Rhowenna. But I am not, nor likely
to become one; and so I have loved you as a brother loves his sister, and
spoken of no more than that, because it was not meet or possible and because I
did not want to cause you pain. That I have done so anyway grieves me
sorely."
"Nay,
Gwydion." Rhowenna shook her head, blinking back tears and attempting to
smile, although the result was pitiable. "If there has been fault between us,
'twas mine— and mine alone. I heard what I wanted to hear in your words. I
longed for the moon when I knew in my heart that it was beyond my reach. 'Twas
you who were wise and I who was foolish. You are not to blame for that."
But
even as she spoke the words and although she recognized their truth, the fact
that Gwydion had deliberately built a wall around his heart against her wounded
her; she felt he could not have done that unless his love for her had been a
shallow thing, unworthy of what she had felt for him in return. Had he loved
her deeply, he would have taken her in his arms, kissed her feverishly, and
begged her to run away with him, Rhowenna thought, to set sail in the coracle
and to cast their fate to the wind, believing that wherever they were bound,
whatever they must endure, it was enough that they were together, of one heart
and one mind. Some part of her had hoped desperately for that, she realized
now. But perhaps that, too, was a notion as foolish as all the rest of her
romantic dreams had proved. Still, she could not put it from her head; and her
disappointment in Gwydion was as painful to her as her father's news of
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