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Page 285
accordance with your gracious permission, I make bold to present you to my son Simon's betrothed wife, Rhiannon uerch Llewelyn.''
"Goodness gracious," Henry exclaimed, smiling broadly, "had I known what Llewelyn was hiding, I would have come seeking it myself. You are a most fortunate man, Simon. Oh, rise, Lady Rhiannon. No need to hold that silly pose. Forgive me. I was so astonished at your loveliness."
Rhiannon stood upright and smiled. It was utterly impossible not to do so. What might have been an offensive leer was the simplest expression of surprised friendliness. The voice also was warm, unaffected, open. Rhiannon suddenly became aware why, after all the harsh things were said and all the hard plans were made to thwart him, nearly everyone who knew him defended the king. There was great sweetness, great charm in him.
Henry's admiration was as innocent as it was sincere. Obviously he was a man who could enjoy beauty for its own sake without desiring to touch or possess it. Had she been as exquisite as the moon or the sun, Rhiannon knew she would also have been as untouchable in Henry's mind.
"Thank you, my lord," she murmured. "My father assured me you would receive me kindly."
"Oh, did he?" Henry laughed. "Well, Lord Llewelyn knows I have a great admiration for beauty."
"So he does, my lord, and he sent to you two gifts, not of great worth, perhaps, but most curious."
With the words, Rhiannon handed over a broach for fastening a cloak, and a belt buckle, both of the same pattern. Each showed the lion and the lamb lying down together in peace. In terms of a gift from one ruler to another, the two pieces were of little value, there being no mass of gold or fine, large gems. But the work was very old, very cunningly wrought, the lion in gold, with a deeply carved curly mane and eyes

 
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