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Llyr gives Eidothea a full tour of Caer Morgana. He returns to Maeve to tell her that he’s joining Eidothea in her search for the Greal. Meanwhile, Ondine, his sister, teaches her some of the culture, and Eidothea eventually returns to her home on the Welsh coast. She is spotted before she is even fully out of the water. She sprints for the cover of the sea cave.
(Apologies, I lost the footage for finding this entry! But part way through the video from our sixth instalment, I do show it. I think I may have forgotten to go back and film it again in the excitement of finding the booklet. Here’s that footage again. You don’t need to watch all of it!)
30th March, 1814 (second page, public entry)
Today, I returned home, with Mr. Jasper Tregallas escorting me. He spoke no reproaches, only relief that I was safe and unharmed.
Everyone is overjoyed at my return and Father hugged me very tightly.
Mr. Tregallas took his leave. “Miss Pendyr, I will await your answer.”
Aunt Norah is ecstatic and has not asked me a single question about my absence. Perhaps because it no longer matters now she believes an engagement offer is on its way.
I recognised his rust-red hair at once. Mr. Jasper Tregallas. Why did he lurk about the cliffs near to my home? Had he seen me? (Of course he had, he had yelled.) Had he recognised me?
I needed to dress quickly before he finished descending the narrow path down the cliff face. He would be here in minutes. Not enough time to fully dress. I towelled myself almost dry with an old blanket. I pulled on a shift from my stashed bag, followed by my petticoat.
I heard the crunch of approaching feet and hastily donned my nightgown, tying the wrapper about me. For good measure, I slung the old blanket around my shoulders.
My skin prickled from being in air and not water. I considered retreating to the house but as far as my aunt knew, I had run away. How would I explain my return?
Tregallas’ form appeared in the cave mouth, his shape silhouetted by bright daylight. “Eido — Miss Pendyr?” he called.
I remained silent.
“Miss Pendyr? I was with your father on the cliffs when we saw you, uhh, come ashore. Too far away to see anything, of course.” I doubted that. “When you have finished dressing, perhaps we could talk? I have been waiting for you, you see, because I knew you would be back, that you would return to continue your mother’s quest.“
I clutched the blanket to my chest, heart rattling in fear. How did he know this? I could not reveal myself to him yet. I went cold. He was a Tregallas. My enemy.
“I want to help you with it.” Tregallas settled on a boulder, his body angled away from the cave. “Are you there? I hope I am not talking to myself.”
I kicked a pebble. It clattered as it bounced across the rocky stone floor. He could make of that what he willed.
“Your aunt has been quite distraught. When my letters went unanswered and the door barred to me, I knew something was terribly amiss. Your aunt said you were ill but when I offered to bring a doctor from Cardiff, she was quite overcome.
“I feared for you, Miss Pendyr, but your father heard everything and told me you had run away. He thrust the note you left into my hand. They had no idea where you had gone. All your aunt could talk about was your certain ruin. Why she confided in me in such a way, I fail to understand. Perhaps worry overturned her reason.
“But I was not going to desert you, Miss Pendyr. You are wild and uninhibited but you are not unreasonable. I asked if there were any letters, or a journal, something that would gain us a hint of your whereabouts.
“Your aunt gave me your journal and I saw through your spells upon it at once. I read what really occurred when you fell overboard, what you truly are. I knew that you would come back and it made sense of your father’s nonchalance on the matter. I met your father a time or two on the cliffs after I read it but of course said nothing to him.”
I sank to the cave floor, struggling to steady my breath. Of course he had seen through my dissembling spells. I had not told my father of the hidden words. He surely expected Mr. Tregallas to disappear on a wild goose chase.
“Where is my journal now?”
“I returned it to your father.”
I let out a small moan, not ready to trust his words.
“Miss Pendyr? Miss Eidothea?” He leapt to his feet and made to enter the cave. He hovered at the entrance. “Are…are you clothed?”
I got to my feet, brushing off the dirt. “I am.” I stepped out into the sunlight, blinking as my eyes adjusted. I had to deal with him and I did not know how. “Who else knows?”
“I told you. Nobody.” Tregallas shook his head. “I have not told a soul, not even your father. He thinks I have men combing the countryside looking for you.”
“You are a Tregallas,” I stated, the cold fact sliding between my ribs. My mother’s rivals in the search for the Greal. “You are dreigiau môr also.”
Again, he shook his head. “My mother was human. I cannot transform like you. I will prove it.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the nearest tide pool. Stripping off a glove, he plunged his hand into the icy sea water. His pink skin transformed into shimmering green scales. “It is why I am such a lousy sailor. One splash and everyone would know I was no ordinary mortal.”
I remembered my hands becoming scaly when I was a little girl. Before Mother gave me her grym bywyd.
He withdrew his hand from the water, wiping it on his trousers. “I suspect there is something you do not know about my family. They are proud of their purebred line. I am … not considered one of them.”
I put the pieces together. “That is why your father has never called you home. Until now.”
Tregallas ran a hand through his hair, sending his curls into further disarray. “My father knows your mother was dreigiau môr. The way he tells it, they were supposed to marry—“
I choked and stumbled back a few steps, covering my mouth.
“He thought that two who were not wholly dreigiau môr could…”
Bring Grealseeker blood into the Tregallas family. I shuddered.
“I am not that bad, surely.” He pursed his lips, his freckles standing out on his suddenly pale face.
“Not you,” I assured him, not being entirely honest, “but your father’s machinations!”
He gave a weary nod. “It has not been an easy life, and I scarce know myself now he has turned his attention to me after all these years of neglect. I was never good enough—” He gave himself a little shake. “I have no intention of helping my father achieve his goals, not after I read the vision you had, Miss Eidothea. I do not want that to come true, so if I can help you in any way, I am at your service.” He sketched a bow.
“I do not know if I can trust you. That you knew of the dreigiau môr means I can trust you to keep that particular secret. But the rest?” I searched his face, hoping to find a hint of an answer there.
“I promise to keep all of your secrets but you need not decide now. I expect you have had quite the experience under the sea. Shall I escort you home?”
I looked down at myself. “Please allow me to change into more suitable attire. Will you wait at the foot of the cliffs for me?”
He agreed and set off without a backward glance.
31st March, 1814
Mr. Jasper Tregallas has written me. He calls me his “honey girl.” Aunt Norah is both taken and offended by my new nickname and is disappointed that the betrothal request has not yet come in writing. He has invited himself to tea and Aunt insisted I take the hint and issue him a proper invitation at once. She even dispatched Jenni to the village to obtain some sweet treats.
Before Mr. Tregallas arrived, I asked Father to join me in his study. I confided in him all that had happened, what Mother had been searching for and the added wrinkle of Mr. Tregallas’s lineage and likely conflict of interest.
Father heard me out. “That young man is quite unlike his father. I agree with your caution but he has waited faithfully for your return. He has been good company. He never said a word about finding out your secret, not even to me, when he could have assumed I already knew. Now as to what your mother searched for…” He stood and crossed to a bookcase, pulling out a handful of books.
He placed them on his desk and opened the first, flipping to a section deep within the book. Paper fluttered from between the pages.
Father picked it up. “This is your mother’s writing.” He wiped at his eye. “If she had asked me, I would have helped her to my fullest ability. If she had found the Greal, you would not be facing these dangers now.”
He sat down. “Go and help your aunt prepare for this afternoon. I will go through my notes for you. As for Mr. Tregallas, trust your instincts, daughter.”
My instincts? If only I could sort them out from the barrage of new and strange information.
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Nuanced characters, I love not knowing who to fully trust.
I was able to watch the video this time and I'm amazed at the diary! Such a beautiful creation, and so detailed! I love the folded-up pages tucked away in secret.