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Gomen had felt Hearpwine's silence and wondered if anything were the matter. He had been delighted with the way Hearpwine had treated him, though the bard had clearly perceived that he had been crying. Gomen felt ashamed now for having wept at all, but as he reflected back on his mother's embraces he thought that it was a fine thing to have a comforting mother and he would remember that she was so for all of his life. He hoped if he was ever married he would marry a girl who would be much like his mother. And he hoped with a vengeance that she would not ever strike him as that other girl had. If he married at all, that is. He did not feel like concerning himself with such matters at the present moment.
Seeking to break the silence, he said what had been dwelling on his mind. "It is a pity that Mae couldn't come with us, isn't it?" And he felt keenly that it was a very deep pity. He didn't feel nearly so easy with himself when Maercwen wasn't around. Gomen was not sure if he were entirely correct, but he had always felt that Mae's cheery, laughing face brought kindness into the hearts of everyone else and made them friendly. It could be, he considered, that others had been kind to start with, but he liked to feel that his elder sister was in at least somewhat responsible for their cheeriness.
"It is a pity," said Hearpwine, and perhaps would have said more if Gomen had not broken in quickly, abruptly changing the subject as the wanderings of his mind drifted to another place. "Master Hearpwine, I do..." He paused and hesitated, wondering if he were not being too bold in what he was about to request. "I do wish you would teach me to sing and to play the harp. I... I rather want to be a bard myself when I'm older, but I fear I know not what I am doing. So if you would kindly teach me..." He trailed off, feeling warmth spread over his face.
Hearpwine did not laugh at him, nor did he show any signs of annoyance, but he said gravely, "I do not think, Gomen, that I am nearly skilled enough as a bard to be a suitable teacher for you."
Gomen flushed. Of course, this was true, and he should have thought of it before. "Why, yes, sir, I suppose you're right," he said weakly, but he had never been a boy to give up easily, and he spoke again, more quietly this time and with less assurance. "But at least, sir, you are better than I and perhaps you might teach me something, however simple it may be."
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