Dewi shook his head. Though he was young, he understood Caitlin far better than she would have imagined, or even liked; and he knew as he had always known that he did not like her. He pitied the man that she would eventually entrap and marry. Caitlin had a heart of stone, if indeed she had any heart at all. There was nothing in her for anyone but herself. She was cold. "A man would be loved, Caitlin," he told her, knowing even as he said it that Caitlin was incapable of loving anyone, perhaps even herself.

"I repeat, little brother, you are a fool!" came the harsh retort. "Men care not if women love them. Power! Gold! Those are their only goals. You will see that I am right one day when you grow up and stop believing in the fairy tales our grandmother and eldest sister so love telling."

"I will marry for love alone, Caitlin," the boy told her quietly. "What good is a fat dowry in a house that is riven with discord between its master and its mistress? What kind of children do such poor souls breed? Gold can never ease a sore heart."

Before Caitlin might argue with her brother further, Wynne held up her hand. "There can be no agreement between you on this subject," she said, "and so I would bid you both to cease your childish bickering. When Rhys of St. Bride's finally arrives, we will listen to him with courtesy, whatever he may have to say."

The siblings nodded their agreement of Wynne's words, though each thought separate thoughts from hers. Caitlin believed that when Rhys of St. Bride's offered their sister a proposal of marriage, she would prevail upon Wynne to accept him, thus ensuring golden futures for herself and Dilys. She smiled a most smug smile at them all.