"Sister," The voice was gentle, yet insistent.

Angharad turned and embraced her elder sibling. A small smile of triumph touched her lips as she looked at Rhiannon. The Cymri had not destroyed her, although God knows they had tried. If anything, Rhiannon's beauty had but increased despite the unjust treatment meted out to her over the past four years. The time had come for retribution.

"Be merciful, sister. " Rhiannon had not spoken aloud, and yet Angharad heard her.

"I might have had they shown you any mercy," the queen of the Fair Folk responded in kind.

"There were some who were thoughtful of me in my distress," Rhiannon replied.

"I know them, and they shall not feel my wrath, " Angharad said, and turning away from her elder sister, she spoke aloud. Her words were deliberate and carefully chosen. Upon those who had aided Rhiannon she disbursed blessings and un-equaled good fortune that would descend down through their families for a thousand generations to come. To those who had calculatingly and purposefully planned deleterious and ruinous hurt to Rhiannon, the queen of the Fair Folk laid upon them a curse of terrible proportions. The silence in the Great Hall of Dyfed as she spoke was so thick it was almost visible.

Then Angharad glared at her brother-in-law, who sat upon his seat of office, his head within his hands. Fiercely she willed him to look up at her, and when he did, she spoke again. The anger was gone from her voice now. Only a deep sadness remained.

"Pwyll of Dyfed," she began. "When you came to wed with my sister, Rhiannon asked but two things of you. That you give her your complete love and your complete trust. This was all she demanded of you in exchange for the great sacrifices she made in order to become your wife. You have betrayed Rhiannon on both accounts.