I sit in the open window of my room, looking out over the garden, smiling at the happy trill of the birds. I sigh and lean out to look down over the treetops to the valley.

My heart is happy, and full. But there are moments I cannot bring myself to understand the unrest tickling my senses. My attempts to find Gwynn have left me confused and with an uncharacteristic anger rising in my soul. No one will tell me where he has gone.

Pensive, irritable even, I pluck at the ...