Free The Fallen Princess by Sarah Woodbury Page B

his head, unlike his elder brother, who was losing his
blonde hair faster than it could gray. Even Cristina, for all her
fiery will, couldn’t stop what nature had decreed. For once,
Cadwaladr’s wife and children had accompanied him to Aber. Alice de
Clare, daughter of a Norman, could have felt out of place in this
very Welsh castle, but she sat beside her husband and ate her food,
never a hair out of place, keeping one eagle eye on the active
six-year-old Cadfan and the other on her one-year-old daughter,
currently in the arms of her nanny.
    Since Hywel had burned Aberystwyth and taken
the lands for himself (at his father’s bidding), Cadwaladr and
Alice had been living on Cadwaladr’s estate in Merionydd. Like
Rhos, it was a cantref of Gwynedd. Its proximity to Aber gave them
a much shorter distance to travel for the festival. With Alice
sitting beside him, a maligned wife if there ever was one, Gwen
felt a little bad about hating Cadwaladr as much as she did. She
didn’t feel so badly, however, that she wasn’t looking forward to
the moment Hywel held out the pendant coin to him and asked
Cadwaladr where he’d been last night. That pleasure, however, had
to be deferred until they knew more about the circumstances
surrounding the disappearance, death, and reappearance of
Tegwen.
    A pity.
    “I’ve been watching for you.” The voice came
low in her ear. “What do you see? What are you looking for?”
    Gwen turned her head, startled to find her
queen, Cristina, at her side. Gwen glanced again towards King
Owain, chastising herself for being so unaware that she hadn’t
noticed her queen’s absence from the high table. “My lady, to what
do I owe this honor?”
    Cristina dismissed Gwen’s obeisance with a
gesture. “I may sit where I like, with whom I like. Owain doesn’t
like to trouble me with difficult issues these days, but I would
like nothing more than to be distracted by this new intrigue. I
assume you do not fear my involvement in this matter? You don’t
think I had anything to do with Tegwen’s death or the discarding of
her body on the beach?”
    “Of course not, my lady.” Gwen meant what
she said, for once. Cristina certainly wasn’t gallivanting about
Gwynedd last night, hauling Tegwen’s body from wherever it had been
hidden and leaving it on the beach in the small hours of the
morning. “How are you feeling?”
    “As well as could be expected for a woman
about to deliver her first child,” Cristina said. “Your time will
come.”
    Gwen bowed her head in acknowledgement of
their shared experience, interested that Cristina had even brought
it up.
    Cristina, however, was not to be distracted
by the coming baby. “Do you think you can divert me from what I
want to know like a hapless miscreant? I am not fooled by your
innocent gaze, my dear.”
    Gwen looked down at the trencher she didn’t
remember putting in front of her. Cristina wasn’t wrong that Gwen
wanted to avoid answering her questions or giving her any
substantive information, especially since Gwen hadn’t yet spoken
more fully with King Owain. She thought quickly as to what she
could say and opted for the essential truth, even if she couldn’t
give Cristina all of it.
    “The body is Tegwen’s, as you know, and we
are just beginning our inquiry. I can tell you little, even if
Prince Hywel hadn’t ordered me to say nothing to anyone other than
the king.” Admittedly, Prince Hywel hadn’t said anything of the
sort but only because he didn’t have to since Gwen already knew
it.
    Cristina leaned closer to Gwen, which wasn’t
easy given the size of her belly. “I am your queen.”
    “Please, Madame, I am well aware of that.
Perhaps if you’d like to help us uncover the truth, you could tell
me what you knew of Tegwen. I have learned already today that I
knew her even less well than I thought I did.”
    Cristina sat straighter, looking somewhat
mollified. “She visited my father’s house in Powys, of course.”
    Gwen