Proper ladies, Cywyllog thinks, should be able to do all those things. Along with the silly embroidery and singing lessons. And maybe even be taught how to read and write, too, despite that it would be in Latin.

But that's just her.

She gives him a quizzical look, shifting her braid back into place. "Why would we? This is what we do for our family; we make alliances." She's known that since she was born, but moreso when she was seven and Myfanwy was the first to leave.