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And anyway, although she liked a slice of good boar as much as the next person, she had overheard her mother telling the chief cook to set aside a quarter of a goose and keep it warm for “our brave Gwen.” So she wasn’t losing by her generosity.

Once the feast was well underway, however, the Merlin was his usual abstemious self.

But this time he paid special attention to Gwenhwyfach. She was up to her usual tricks, utterly unaware that she was being studied. First me, then Gynath, now Little Gwen . . . She wondered what he was thinking.

Then it dawned on her; the High King was about to be the father of an heir. Such a boy was going to need a wife, and as soon as possible. An alliance with her father would give Arthur a near neighbor to the troublesome Orkney crew. And hadn’t her father suggested it himself?

Cataruna had gone to the Ladies, and once she came back, the king would not want to give up one with both the Gift and the training. Gynath was, perhaps, a little too old—oh, you could betroth babies in the cradle, but usually they were closer in age than this, and when the boy was old enough to sire a child, Gynath would be twice his age. Besides, if Eleri did not, after all, have a boy, then the king would want to pick a good husband for Gynath, in order to have a male to pass the crown to.

Gwen herself? Possible, but probably still too old. And as long as she was a warrior, she would not only be valuable to her father for those skills but would be much in the company of the men—and without the pressure of being first- or second-born, she might make a match of her own. Or not. Braith never had.

But Little Gwen, now . . . that was different. She was young enough to be reasonably close in age to the High King’s son, she was pretty and would likely grow to be even prettier, and she had immense charm. She’d make a good candidate for such an alliance. The king himself had said that there was no telling what she would grow into, so out of his own mouth the Merlin had it that she was not yet seen as a valuable asset. And she was fourth-born. Her father would have every reason to welcome such a betrothal.

So now the Merlin might well be watching her to see if she was trainable. If she was betrothed to the High King’s heir, they’d want her sent to them. They’d want to be sure she was raised their way, with schooling in what they thought needful.

And wouldn’t that be interesting. Gwen schooled her more malicious thoughts. With the Merlin there, Little Gwen wouldn’t be able to use her glamorie, if indeed she had one, to charm people into doing what she wanted. She’d actually have to learn how to behave. Probably how to work, too. The life of a queen was not all fine clothes and goose every day. The queen had charge over the household, and in the king’s absence, could be expected even to command the warriors.

It would probably be the best thing that could happen to her.

And Gynath and I would have the bed all to ourselves, she couldn’t help but think, wistfully. And then she sighed. The way that Little Gwen was carrying on, the Merlin would probably think she was far too much trouble, even for such a good alliance as with her father. Especially since her father was already clearly loyal.

She lifted the hair from the back of her neck for a moment to let a breeze cool it. She was very glad they weren’t stuck in the Great Hall. It was much more pleasant, eating outside, but the king, though he would have scoffed at such a notion, followed the Roman custom of having the family and retainers dining in the Great Hall most times. Sometimes Gwen wondered why, especially on an afternoon like this. It was easier to clean up after everyone was done eating, the sound of talking didn’t get bounced about by hard stone walls so that you had to concentrate even to hear a near neighbor, and it didn’t smell. As fastidious as Queen Eleri was, there was only so much you could do in a room where cats and dogs did as they willed, rats and mice came out at night, and people dropped food and spilled