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Some, a lot less. More than once, the doubt had nagged him that he’d ever find his own goddess on earth.
    In Gyan, that doubt never would trouble him again.
    “She is beautiful,” murmured a female voice. Arthur turned to see Ygraine gliding toward him. He noted with a flash of irritation that the guards had withdrawn from their posts, except the pair flanking the door, and they stood too far away to overhear a conversation conducted in normal tones. The teeth bared by Ygraine’s smile gleamed like moonlit pearls. “I haven’t forgotten how much a little privacy costs.”
    He snorted as an image of her and his father came to mind. Shoving it aside, he squelched the urge to reprimand her for bribing his guards. The men would hear from him soon enough.
    “Don’t be too hard on them, Arthur,” she said, as if hearing his thoughts. “They believe they’re doing us a favor.” As he glared at her under lowered eyebrows, her grin widened. “Your father used to get that same look whenever I did something like this.”
    He conceded with a sigh. Some battles weren’t worth the effort.
    Of the reasons Ygraine might seek private speech with him, he had a reasonable guess. Very little befell Clan Cwrnwyll without the consent of its chieftainess. After having grown to manhood in the fosterage of Cai’s late parents, Ectorius and Calpurnia, he felt less like Ygraine’s son than her liegeman.
    “If you are displeased because I didn’t consult you about my marriage—”
    She waved dismissively and gathered her skirts to settle onto the pool’s raised lip. “I gave you both my blessing yesterday, and I’m not of a mind to retract it now. Last night, Cai told me everything the bards couldn’t: that certain events rather…outpaced everyone.” She patted the lip beside her in an invitation. When Arthur shook his head, she chuckled softly. “Arthur map Uther, you are most definitely your father’s son.”
    Unsure whether she meant that as a compliment, he let it pass. “Did he also tell you that by the laws of Gyan’s people, we’ve been married for a fortnight already?”
    “No.” Her finger furrowed the water, and the carp swam over to investigate. Ygraine’s features creased into a thoughtful expression. She flicked the drops away. “Quite convenient, I must say.”
    “Yes,” Arthur said. If canonical law, to which the Brytoni clans adhered, had contained such a provision, there would have been no question about the legitimacy of Arthur’s birth or his assumption of Clan Cwrnwyll’s chieftainship upon Ygraine’s death. He didn’t crave either status, but he despised his options being constrained by events beyond his control. “Quite.”
    Up jerked her head, and she shot to her feet. Arthur could feel her wrath ignite. Facing an enemy army alone and unarmed seemed much more appealing.
    “I chose my destiny years ago, Arthur, and I’d do it all over again. Lord knows I paid for that choice by having you…and losing you…” She drew a breath, puffed it out, and drew another. “I’ve always regretted that things didn’t work out differently for you. And for us. Your father included. If you think I don’t care about what happens to you, then I strongly suggest you think again.” When he didn’t reply, she sighed, turning toward the pool. “You have a lovely, spirited bride. I see a lot of Uther and me in the two of you.” Her short laugh sounded rueful. “Much more than I’d expected. I had hoped to use the occasion of these festivities to get better acquainted with her—and with you.” Ygraine’s shoulders shifted in another sigh, and she faced him. “Forgive an old woman for indulging in vain hopes.”
    He may have considered Ygraine to be many things, but never old. Yet as he studied her face, he noticed abundant evidence in the creased brow and the frown lines dragging at her mouth, lines etched by responsibility and, amazingly, regret. He began to understand how much he truly meant to