“He did indeed. Where is Rhoram?” Rhiannon asked before Tallwch could question her further.
“In the Great Hall. I suggest you allow me to announce you. It’s better that way.”
Offering one arm to Rhiannon and the other to Gwen, he rather grandly escorted them to the half-open doors of the hall. The noise was immense. There seemed to be a great deal of shouting, laughing, talking and singing.
“Is something special going on tonight?” Rhiannon asked curiously, while Gwen cringed with the assault on her ears.
“Oh, it’s always like that.”
“Since when?”
“Since Rhoram needed as much diversion as possible to prevent him from having to talk to the Queen.”
Rhiannon, her heart beating uncomfortably fast, struggled to maintain her outer composure. Sternly she reminded herself of three things—Rhoram had a wife, Rhoram could not be trusted, and there had been an attempt on her life to prevent her from aiding Gwydion ap Awst.
The noise was beginning to quiet down. “We’ll just wait until Ellywen gives the blessing. That will be the best time.” Tallwch said calmly.
They edged toward the doors as they heard a woman’s voice, cool and hard, reciting the evening prayer.
The peace of light,
The peace of joys
The peace of souls
Be with you.
“Awen,” the crowd replied.
“Stay behind me,” Tallwch said, leading them into the now quiet hall.
The first person she saw was Rhoram, sitting at the table on the dais. His hair was still bright gold, and he was richly dressed in a tunic of emerald green. His long fingers toyed with his jeweled goblet, the emerald ring around his finger glittering. He was looking down into the cup and smiling faintly, as though the blessing amused him.
She saw Queen Efa sitting stiffly beside him. She wore a niam-lann, a circlet of gold around her forehead, a cluster of emeralds resting above her brow. She wore long, golden earrings and rings without number. Her dress was green and gold.
The table was full of those she knew—Sanon and Geriant, whom she barely recognized, so grown were they. Achren with her crooked smile. Dafydd Penfro, Rhoram’s counselor. So many others she remembered.
Into the silence, Tallwch suddenly boomed, “Guests come to your Hall, great King. Noble guests of the House of Llyr.”
Rhoram looked up. “Gwydion? He was just—” Rhoram stopped abruptly as Rhiannon and Gwen came forward to stand by Tallwch.
“These are your guests. Rhiannon ur Hefeydd var Indeg, Dewin of Kymru. Gwenhwyfar ur Rhoram var Rhiannon, Princess of Prydyn.”
The hall fell silent as people froze in astonishment. Then Sanon and Geriant erupted from their chairs and rushed pellmell down the length of the hall, throwing themselves into Rhiannon’s open arms.
“You came back,” Sanon whispered. Rhiannon kissed the top of her bright, golden head, and Geriant, grinning like a mad man, said nothing but hugged her tightly.
“I came back. And I brought your sister with me.” Gesturing to Gwen, who was standing behind her, she pulled her daughter forward.
“Gwenhwyfar, this is your sister, Sanon. And your brother, Geriant.”
There were tears in Sanon’s eyes and in Gwen’s too, as Sanon gently hugged her.
“You are welcome here, sister,” Geriant said with a smile.
Rhiannon looked up at the dais and saw Rhoram getting to his feet. Efa frantically clutched his arm, but he loosened her hold gently, almost absently.
Slowly, he made his way down the hall, never talking his glittering eyes from her. He was pale and his face was expressionless. For one horrible moment, Rhiannon was sure that she had miscalculated. Then she saw the welcome in his sapphire eyes.
Like a man who is fearful that he is only dreaming, he reached out his hand to caress her cheek. “Rhiannon. Rhiannon ur Hefeydd. You came back,” he said slowly.
She nodded and started to speak. “For—for a while. I—” but no further words materialized. Her heart was beating so rapidly that she could not think. “I bring you a gift.”
“A gift. A gift greater than you?”
“I bring you your daughter.” She reached out and drew Gwen to her side.
“Gwenhwyfar.” He looked down at her for a long time. “Oh, my child. How beautiful you are,” and he drew her into a tender embrace. He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them they had the sheen of tears. There were tears in Gwen’s eyes as she clung to her father.
Finally, Rhoram drew back. “Thank you,” he said to Rhiannon, his voice raw. “Thank you for my gift. The most wondrous gift I have ever received.” He smiled at Gwen and reached out his hand to touch her bright hair. Then he turned his sapphire gaze back to Rhiannon.