They sailed southward for four days and nights. Rhys assured Madeline that the sea was particularly calm, though she started at every ripple on its surface. She preferred to be on the deck, and mercifully, their journey was blessed with such good weather that she could remain outside.
Madeline stood at the rail by the hour, the sun warming her hair and Rhys bracing his hands on either side of her. His voice was always in her ear, his tales and his songs enchanting her utterly. Every rock seemed to remind him of a song; every bay, every cliff, every tower prompted him to tell her a story.
There was an urgency about Rhys, though Madeline believed it was because he drew near to his home. It was proximity to Caerwyn that brought a tremor to his voice, it was love of this land that brightened
