She was young. That was the first thing Cerys noticed, and despite the fact that she'd known Ashlynn Blackwell was barely into her twenties when she married Owain Lothian, somehow the notion of a young 'Ashlynn Blackwell' had been completely overridden in her mind by the ancient power of the mighty 'Mother of Trees'.
Yet her eyes didn't lie to her. The woman who stepped into the candlelight couldn't have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three, with pale blonde hair that fell loosely past her shoulders and a face that was far too delicate to belong to the fearsome witch who had conquered one barony by force of arms and brought Baron Loghlan Dunn to kneel with an offer he couldn't refuse.
