Chapter Twenty-Six

"T ell me, Edna, how does he fare?"

Alyce had gone to Hawk's chamber immediately upon returning to the keep, but Hunter stopped her from entering with a shake of his head as he stood with his arms folded over his chest in front of the chamber door.

He had allowed Edna to enter when she arrived with an armload of linens for bandages followed by several lads hauling buckets of water. When the door opened to let them pass, a litany of grunted profanities reached her ears before Hunter pulled the door closed again. When Hunter resumed his post as sentry, staring wordlessly down at Alyce, she swallowed her pride, squared her shoulders, then turned on her heel to take her leave.

She'd considered commanding him to open the door—it was her castle and her door, and she had every right to demand entry—but her gut told her Hunter would not see it the same way.

"He fares as well as can be expected under the circumstances, my lady," Edna reported. Her demeanor was more reserved than usual, and Alyce wondered if it was because of her disgust with what happened to Hawk, or because of Alyce taking Cynwulf's place as liege of the castle. Or because she was disappointed in Alyce, blaming her for Cynwulf's disappearance and Hawk's harsh treatment.

"Dearest Edna, I implore you to forego formalities when we are alone." So much had changed in the last day, she needed some things to remain familiar. "You have been the woman closest to me since my mother passed. I need your guidance and reassurance now more than ever."

Edna stopped tidying Alyce's belongings to sit beside her on the bed and put her arms around her in a motherly embrace. The stiffness eased from her back and shoulders as she laid her head against the older woman's shoulder.

"I will always be here for you, my dear, in whatever way you need me." She stroked a soothing hand over Alyce's hair as she spoke, just as she used to when she was a little girl missing her mother.

"Edna, I…" she wanted to tell her how overwhelmed she felt, but her throat closed over the words.

"I know," Edna said, rocking her back and forth in her arms as she did when Alyce was a young girl. "No need to be anyone other than my little Alyce when we are alone."

She turned her face into Edna's shoulder as a sob escaped. From the time her parents died, Uncle Ranolf, Cynwulf, and Edna had been her family. Edna had been her mother's maid, and then her own for her entire life, but Alyce could never consider her just a servant. She loved Edna as she had loved her mother, and just as with her mother, Edna was the only person she felt fully comfortable enough with to let all of her defenses down.

"Have a good cry with me and get it over with. When you are done, you will be ready for whatever comes your way next," Edna murmured, her cheek pressed reassuringly to the top of Alyce's head. It was the permission she needed to release the pent-up emotions of the past night and day.

After the tears were spent and she could breathe normally again, she said, "I cannot imagine Cynwulf ever needing a good cry when he felt overwhelmed." She let out a short, mirthless laugh when she finally released Edna and sat up to wipe her eyes. She did feel like some of the fog had cleared from her mind, but each time she remembered Cynwulf was not coming back to Hawkspur, it was like the wind was knocked from her chest and she had to force herself to breathe again.

"Did you know of Cynwulf's past, Edna?" By now, the word had certainly spread through the whole of Hawkspur about Cynwulf and why he was gone.

The older woman let out a sigh. "I was with your mother as her maid since before either you or your brother were born, but you already knew that." She paused for a long moment, and Alyce laid a reassuring hand over the older woman's clasped hands. She rubbed a thumb over the back of Edna's fingers, noticing the dark spots and wrinkles of the thinning skin, while she waited patiently for her to continue.

"And I was with her when she went to stay with relations in Wales before she married your father. Her uncle was a baron in Wales, a skilled commander, and that summer he had several young men from prominent families living in his barracks and training with his men." Edna's eyes were focused on some distant point on the wall as she remembered the events of so many years past.

"We were both very young women," she said with a small smile, remembering, "na?ve and enamored with the idea of love and chivalry. Your mother fell in love with one of the young wards of her uncle, but he could not woo her openly as his family would not approve."

"Was it Prince Llywelyn's brother?" Alyce asked in a hushed voice. No one could hear their conversation through the stone walls of the chamber, but it felt scandalous to say the words too loudly.

"She never said definitively it was him," Edna admitted. "She did not hide from me the fact that she was having a clandestine love affair, but she thought it best I not know his name until they could declare their love openly. I knew it was Daffydd, though, because I saw the way she watched him, especially when the men were in the yard or gathered in the hall. And he was constantly glancing her way, his chest puffing when he would catch her looking at him. Your mother claimed privately they spoke of a future, determined to find a way to be together. I'll never know if he loved her in return, but your mother was convinced he did…so convinced that she allowed him to seduce her. Fools that they were, they thought if he took her maidenhead, his family would have no choice but to relent and allow them to marry."

"How could they deem my mother not worthy of their son?" Everyone had loved Alyce's mother. She couldn't imagine anyone objecting to having her as a daughter-in-law.

"The Llywelyns are a powerful and ambitious family, and a match with your mother's family was not advantageous enough for their liking," Edna said, bitterness seeping through in her tone. "But, as good fortune would have it, Queen Eleanor took a liking to your mother. She often served as one of her ladies-in-waiting and returned to her again after her time in Wales. The queen is an observant and caring woman; she recognized very quickly that something had changed with your mother, and it was soon apparent she was with child. It was the queen who arranged the hasty marriage to your father."

Edna looked down at their clasped hands and patted Alyce's hand as she looked up into her face with a small smile. "Your father was a good man. He loved her well, and loved Cynwulf nearly as much as he loved you."

A warmth spread through Alyce's chest remembering the big, jolly man who swung her in circles as a little girl and allowed Cynwulf to ride on his back like a horse. Until tragedy took their parents away, they'd had a good life. Uncle Ranolf, who was so much like her father, gave them a home and comfort beyond what was required of him. Like his brother, he was a big, gentle man, but with a more commanding presence than his younger brother.

Cynwulf and Alyce were very fortunate to have the family they did. Most families were not so demonstrative of their love for each other, and even fewer would have accepted a child conceived by another man into their hearts and homes. If she found out her father was someone other than the man who raised her, would she be driven to find him?

"I can understand Cynwulf's desire to know the man who sired him. What I do not understand is why he would compromise his position as lord and endanger everyone at Hawkspur for a man he hardly knew. And why…" Alyce paused, trying to articulate the anger welling in her chest. "Why did he choose Daffydd over me? Why was the acceptance and admiration of a man who had forsaken our mother and him more important than the sister who stood by his side all these years?" She felt the tears welling up again but choked them back down. "Why am I never enough?"

She cringed at how hurt she sounded, but it felt like a betrayal. Once again, her years of love and loyalty were not enough to receive the same in return.

"I cannot say that I know the mind and heart of another person," Edna said, putting a hand to Alyce's cheek, "but I do not believe that Cynwulf meant to choose between either of you. Whatever he did, whatever choices he made, none of it was a measure of his love for you. I am convinced he never imagined it would come to this, that it would hurt you or put you in harm's way. He loves you above all else.

"And as to you not being enough, stop talking such nonsense." She held up her hands to stop Alyce from protesting. "I do not mean to sound harsh, my dear, but you must get past this idea that if someone hurts you, it means they don't love you. No one is infallible, and sometimes we forget that what we want or that the choices we make might hurt those closest to us. What Cynwulf did, and what Geoffrey did—because I know you are thinking about that again—were mistakes that were made in spite of their love for you, not because of their lack of love for you. Geoffrey was tormented greatly because of his mistake, and Cynwulf is surely plagued with regret now."

Edna lowered her lashes at Alyce and said in a gentle voice, "I think you might know something about actions having unintended consequences."

A slap in the face would not have stung as sharply as Edna's words. Every time she closed her eyes, the memory of Hawk's bared and bloody back filled her mind.

*

Dining with the king and queen was excruciating for Alyce. She'd not slept in nearly two days, and she was emotionally exhausted. It took all of her strength and composure to stay sitting upright, listening to the king regale the table with his litany of reasons for despising Daffydd ap Llywelyn.

Each time her eyelids drooped, he would describe another betrayal at the hands of Daffydd. It was beyond fathoming as to why King Edward thought he could trust a man who led a rebellion against his own brother to claim the title of prince for himself, twice swore fealty to the king of England when disavowed by his brother, and twice broke his oath to the king when reconciled again with his brother. In truth, she was finding it difficult to feel anything but indifference toward Edward's anger at Daffydd as it was his own folly to trust a man who was so obviously loyal only to himself.

She did feel a pang of sadness for Cynwulf. This man the king despised so fervently did not deserve even a handful of her brother's loyalty. He'd already proven he was not loyal to his family with the many times he turned his back on his own brother, the Prince of Wales. And now he was leading a rebellion because he felt he was owed even more than all that he had, once again.

This man would use Cynwulf for as long as it served his purpose, and then he would push him to the wayside. It broke her heart to think of all her brother had sacrificed for this man who cared about no one save himself. What else would Cynwulf have to sacrifice before this was over?

The king continued to drone on about things Alyce should care about, but she just couldn't bring herself to feign her interest anymore. She felt ready to fall from her chair in exhaustion, willing to curl up under the table at his feet if it meant she would be allowed to close her eyes for a while.

The scraping of trestle tables being pulled across the wooden floor captured her attention, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Mercifully, the king and queen finally rose from the table and bid Alyce goodnight to retire for the evening.

The queen took Alyce's hand in her own. "We will have a nice long sit down another time when you are not falling over tired. My husband sometimes forgets not everyone has his ability to blink their eyes a few times and call it a good night's sleep as he does." She turned an adoring eye toward the king as she spoke the last, then turned back to Alyce. "Get some sleep, my dear, and tomorrow will look better."

Alyce nodded and tried to smile gratefully at the queen through her exhaustion, though she couldn't be sure the corners of her mouth even moved.

She waited for the royal couple and their contingent of guards and ladies to ascend to the second-floor chambers before following behind them. Ever since the king and queen had taken up residence in the family's rooms above, a contingent of watchful guards hovered at the chamber doors and near the stairwell.

Continuing up the spiraling stairwell, she emerged into the narrower corridor of the uppermost floor and the smaller guest chambers. A single torch flickered in the wall sconce, the light dancing dimly over two forms seated on stools outside of Hawk's door. Both men came to their feet as Alyce stepped into view.

"My lady," they said in unison. She did not know the names of these two soldiers, but she recognized them as part of Hawk's elite force.

"How does he fare?" she asked, nodding toward his chamber door.

"He sleeps." One of the men responded. When it became apparent neither man intended to say anything more, she sighed wearily and continued to her room.

Gertie was stoking the fire as she entered. "My lady," she said, turning with a smile while Ffyddlon thumped her tail against her nest of blankets.

"At least someone is happy to see me," Alyce lamented with a tired smile at her maid. She crossed to Ffyddlon to keep her from trying to stand. Her shoulder had been stitched, but she would need to rest for it to properly heal.

"Thomas has just been to take Ffyddlon outside for a few minutes," Gertie reported. "He says she is doing splendidly and will be following in your shadow again soon."

The kennel master had developed a soft place in his heart for Ffyddlon, despite his initial rejection of her as useless. "She can't be coaxed into a proper heat," Thomas had explained to Alyce when she'd first discovered the scared, skinny hound hiding behind the kitchen, surviving on the discarded scraps, which were few.

She kneeled on the floor to rub Ffyddlon's fur and press a kiss to her muzzle, but once her head rested against the dog's warm neck, her eyelids closed, and exhaustion overwhelmed her.

"Up with you," Gertie insisted, pulling at her arm to get her off the floor. Somehow, Gertie managed to unlace her tunic and pull it over her head before she flopped onto the bed. She felt tugging at her feet as her shoes were removed and then blissful warmth and darkness as the blankets were pulled over her.

Her last coherent thought was a silent plea to the heavens for Cynwulf's safety and Hawk's pain to ease.