Page 27 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

Fair Lydia nodded. “I would not lie to you,” she said gently.

“Bria, your mother died in childbirth with you, and when you were less than a year old, your father was captured in Wales and executed. You were a most valuable hostage because you have the blood of the last Prince of Wales running through your veins. More than that, you also have blood from the royal English house as well as the House of de Montfort. Simon de Montfort is your maternal grandfather. That makes you an extremely important figure, so important that King Edward ordered that you be sent away to Sempringham Priory to live out your natural life as a hostage, never to procreate, never to be loved. Sempringham was to be your prison.”

Cambria was back to being shocked again. “Oh… Sweet Jesù,” she breathed. “Is… is that even possible?”

“It is not only possible, it is probable. It is the truth.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

Cambria took a deep breath, struggling to comprehend. “ Eleanor ,” she finally said, sounding dazed. “My mother was Eleanor?”

“Eleanor de Montfort.”

Hearing that again was like a thunderclap to Cambria, pounding the truth into her. “I… I know this from my lessons on the history of England,” she said. “Eleanor was the youngest child of Simon de Montfort.”

“She was.”

“But Simon de Montfort fought Henry for the crown.”

“He did.”

Cambria was starting to put the pieces together, the pieces of her lineage. “That means he fought his brother-in-law,” she said. “Henry was Eleanor’s brother.”

“Aye, he was.”

Cambria didn’t know what to say after that. She simply shook her head in disbelief. Seeing that she was completely overcome, Fair Lydia continued softly.

“You were never going to make it to Sempringham,” she said.

“The moment I took you in my arms, there was no possibility that I was going to allow that to happen. So, you were given a new name and you became an adopted de Royans child. Another infant was sent to Sempringham in your place. That is why you can never speak of this, Bria. Too many men risked everything so you could have the life you lead today. If the truth were discovered, it would be deadly to them and probably to you as well. There are still men out there who would like nothing better than to kill you and erase Llywelyn’s bloodlines from the earth entirely.

You were always precious, as my daughter, but your past makes you precious, and dangerous, to others as well.

Guard your secret with your life, my love. ”

Cambria stared at her mother. It was the most fantastic tale she’d ever heard. She was in the throes between shock and disbelief, both emotions fighting for prevalence.

Mama would not lie to me.

Mama would not lie!

Finally, she began to tear up.

“Please,” she said, hand against her mouth in shock. “Is that all really true?”

It was a last plea for confirmation, for acknowledgment that this was no joke. Fair Lydia, seeing how upset her daughter was, kissed her hand again.

“I promise you that it is,” she said. “You may be upset by this. It will take time for you to come to terms with it. That is why we did not tell you when you were younger. It would not have meant anything, but now that you are older, you must understand why we did what we did. Why we hid you in plain sight. You will go on and marry the man you love and have a dozen children. You will live, Cambria. That is your right. It is the right of every child born to go on and live a productive life. Your father and Warenton gave you that opportunity. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

Cambria nodded, blinking, and the tears spattered. She still held her hand over her mouth, unable to move it away because it seemed to be holding in great cries of shock.

“I understand,” she whispered. “But… I cannot believe it.”

Fair Lydia didn’t say any more. Cambria needed time to process what she’d been told because, clearly, it was overwhelming in nature.

Fair Lydia wasn’t sure that Cambria would even come to terms with it anytime soon, but did not regret telling her.

She did feel bad that it wasn’t something her daughter had expected, or probably had even imagined in her wildest dreams.

Yet it was the truth.

A hidden princess.

The bloodlines of Wales.

“Does Liam know?” Cambria said, barely able to speak.

Fair Lydia nodded. “He knows,” she said. “But I do not think you should tell him that you know. If he ever brings it up to you, then you can determine at that time whether or not to confess. This secret affects him also, since he will marry you.”

Cambria swallowed hard, trying to swallow away her tears.

She suddenly didn’t feel much like wearing her wedding dress today.

She didn’t feel much like anything. All she could think of was a dead Welsh prince and a dead English princess, her parents, and the heritage that fate had given her.

She was half Welsh, half English. Half rebel, half not. So many half-somethings.

Slowly, she stood up.

Fair Lydia watched as she made her way over to one of the two enormous wardrobes in her chamber. Cambria had a good many clothes, all of them neatly tucked away, and she opened up one of the wardrobe doors where her fine things were hanging.

“Bria?” Fair Lydia said. “What are you thinking, Dearest? Can I help with anything?”

Cambria was just reaching for the ties on the side of the bodice, but she came to a halt. “Bria,” she muttered. “ Cambria . Is that truly my name?”

Fair Lydia stood up from the chair. “It is now,” she said. “But when you came to us, you had another name.”

Cambria turned to look at her. “What was it?”

“Gwenllian.”

Cambria thought on that. “Gwenllian,” she repeated, hearing her birth name for the first time. “I remember saying something to my tutor once, how my name was the ancient name for Wales. Cambria, Brittania, Caledonia—all ancient names for countries. But I never thought anything of it until now.”

Fair Lydia came up behind her and began unfastening the ties at the back of the dress.

“I selected the name,” she said. “I knew it was the ancient name for Wales and, considering who you were, it seemed fitting. Mayhap you no longer carried the name of your ancestors, but I chose to honor them through that ancient name.”

Cambria smiled weakly. “You were always a woman of great generosity,” she said.

“Mama… thank you for telling me. I am honored that you would trust me with it. But it is… a lot. I think I should like to change into something more comfortable and keep to myself for a while. Will you make sure I am undisturbed?”

Fair Lydia nodded. “Of course,” she said. “I will help you remove this garment and then I will leave you to your thoughts.”

“Nay,” Cambria said, turning around to stop the woman from fussing with the garment ties. “Go now, if you please. I can remove this myself.”

Fair Lydia’s brow furrowed. “Are you certain?” she said. “There are a lot of different pieces to remove.”

Cambria forced a smile. “I can manage,” she said. “Thank you, Mama. For everything.”

She seemed final about it, and Fair Lydia dipped her head in surrender, giving in to her daughter’s wishes. The last sight she had of Cambria before she closed the bedchamber door was of her daughter looking at herself in the mirror again, perhaps this time to question who she really was.

Cambria?

Or Gwenllian?

The expression on her face left Fair Lydia wondering if she’d done the right thing by telling her the truth.

Certainly, only time would tell.

She could only pray that it didn’t come back to haunt her.