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Rod was silent, waiting—but Cordelia was silent, too, lost in recent memory, and mortified.

Finally, Gwen broke the silence.  "Thou hast ever been quick and sharp of tongue, daughter."

"Oh, but I so rarely mean what I say in the heat of the moment!"

"Aye—'tis naught but the telling remark, the barbed retort, that matters, is't not?  Yet hast thou thought of the hurt thy hasty words may do?"

"Surely he knows that rash words are not meant!"

"Alain?  No," Rod said.  "I don't think he knows anything of the kind.  Very serious young man, that.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he thinks angry words show how a person really feels."

"Oh, but he cannot!"  Cordelia wrung her hands.  "He cannot truly think that I meant what I said!"

"Are you sure you don't?"

Cordelia stilled, considering.  Then she said, "He is somewhat pompous..."

"And insensitive," Rod agreed.  "Are you sure he's right for you?  Shouldn't you be going after a man with a bit more of a sense of fun?"

Gwen flashed him a glare.

"But he could be changed!"  Cordelia cried.  "I could make him see his true nature, lessen his conceit, teach him to think of others' feelings!"

Rod shook his head.  "Never think you can change a man, daughter.  Oh, he will change, in time—but not necessarily into what you want him to be."

"Marriage itself will change him!"

"Aye, marriage will," Gwen agreed, "but not on the instant, and not always in the way thou wouldst wish."  Rod cast her a rather guilty glance.  Fortunately, she wasn't looking.

"But I have always known I would wed Alain!"

"Thou art not pledged to him," Gwen said sternly.  "Look at the man he has become, daughter, and say if thou truly dost wish him."

"I do!  Oh, I know I do!  Have I not lain awake thinking of him?  Have I not watched him year by year, and considered him?"

"Hast thou ever asked thyself if thou dost love him?"

"We will love one another in time!"

Rod shook his head.  "Don't ever bet on that."

"Are not all royal marriages so made?"

"Catharine's wasn't," Rod pointed out.

"Aye," Gwen agreed.  "She married for love, and I doubt not she doth hope that her sons will also."

"I know that I want him!"  Cordelia cried.  "Is that not enough?"

And, "No," both her parents said together.

"Oh, be still!"  Cordelia stormed.  "You understand nothing, you are too old!  You have forgot what 'tis like to be young!"

Her parents ground their teeth, and tried to remember what Cordelia had just said about not meaning what she said in anger.

"The worst of it is that I must now follow them."  Cordelia started pacing again.

"Follow them?"  Rod stared.  "In the name of Heaven, why?"

"It might not be the course of wisdom, daughter," Gwen hinted.

"Wisdom is for crones, old men, and Gregory!  I must follow to see that no harm befalls my Prince!"

"Surely he is safe with thy brother," Gwen objected.  "Naught could touch him there."

"Naught but Geoffrey's soldierly nonsense!  He will fill Alain with swagger and bluster, I doubt not—tell him that no man's a man unless he can drink a gallon of wine and still bed a wench!"

"Cordelia!"  Gwen gasped.

"He will, Mother—you know he will!"

"Maybe not quite in those terms," Rod hedged.  "Terms!  What matter the terms?"  Cordelia stamped her foot.  "Nay, 'tis what he may do that worries me!  By your leave, my parents, I must fly!"  She turned and strode out of the solar without waiting for an answer.

It was very still behind her, for a few minutes.

Then Rod released a long breath and said, "Well!  What do you think she's really planning to protect him from, dear?"

"Wenches who are pretty and willing," Gwen retorted.  "What else?"

"I think she'll find that her usual array of witch powers doesn't do her much good there.  Think she can learn new techniques?"

"How to enchant a lad?  I have no doubt that she can, if she wishes to."

"Yes, but knowing our daughter, she's too honest to want to, if she isn't in love herself."

"Dost thou truly fault that?"

"Not in the slightest," Rod sighed.  "But I can't help wondering if she's going to be enchanting for Alain.  What do you think of the chances?"

"I think that she may make the greatest mistake of her life," Gwen answered, "or the wisest choice."

"Let's hope for wisdom, in spite of what she thinks of it."  Rod shook his head.  "I'm only glad that in my case, wisdom and love happened together."  He squeezed her hand and smiled into her eyes.

Gwen smiled back, reflecting that it had taken her a great deal of effort to make him understand that.

"He is gone!  What!  Off into the forest?  Alone?"

Tuan forced down a surge of irritation.  He understood that to his wife, "alone" meant with fewer than twenty bodyguards.  "Be of good cheer, my sweet.  He could not be more thoroughly warded if he had an army with him."

"Oh, thou dost place far too much faith in this boisterous boy of Gwendylon's!  How could they stand against a whole troop of bandits, they two alone?  And they are quite like to meet such, there in the greenwood!"

She had been carrying on like this since Sir Devon had reported what had happened.

"To dare to strike at the Heir!"  Catharine ranted.  "'Tis treason, 'tis a crime most foul, 'tis..."

"'Twas a disagreement between two youths," Tuan interrupted, "and our own lad was not blameless, if thou wilt consider."

"Well ...  aye, he may have spoken rashly and in haste!  But the Crown Prince may not be assaulted!"

Privately, Tuan thought it had probably done his son a world of good, and was rather proud that he had stood up for so long against Geoffrey Gallowglass—for King Tuan was a knight born, bred, and trained, and knew well the warrior—worth of the middle Gallowglass boy.  "Blows or not, they are friends again..."

"Through our son apologizing!  A Prince, to apologize!  'Tis unheard of, 'tis humiliation, 'tis..."

"Most chivalrous," Tuan finished for her.  "Howsoe'er it may or may not have become him as a prince, it is most fitting for him as a knight, and I am proud of him for it."

"Oh, thou wouldst be, thou!  Men!  Hast thou no care but thy game of honor?"

Tuan stiffened.  "That honor is the protection of many a lady, and giveth her the respect that is due her.  If our son hath transgressed in this, at least he hath had the grace to make amends..."

"Or shall, if he doth live!  Husband, art thou a fool?  Canst thou not see his danger?"

"Danger, when he is a swordsman most excellent himself, and is accompanied by the best in the land?"  Tuan smiled.  "Be of good cheer, my sweet.  He shall come forth from this wood hale and sound, and more sure of himself than ever he hath been."

"Oh, to be sure!  That is what our son Alain most truly doth need—an even greater opinion of himself!"

"In truth, he doth," said Tuan quietly, "for though he may believe himself to be good, he cannot know.  He is untried, and therefore unsure of his own worth."

"Men!"  Catharine threw up her hands in disgust.  "As though naught but thy ability with the sword proves thy worth!"

Tuan reflected that she had been glad enough of his ability with weapons, when she had stood at war with her noblemen.  "There is also the matter of his being an object of desire in the eyes of the lady he loves—and he hath but now found that in that regard, he is naught."

Catharine stopped abruptly, frowning down at her knotted hands.  She was silent a moment, then said, "Doth he love her, then?"

"Be sure that he doth," Tuan said softly.  "Hast thou seen his eyes when he hath watched her at a banquet or a ball, and thought she did not see?"