Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I can wait.”
“From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my society. I have no objection—in fact I shall be glad—but only on condition that you drop this language.”
“Yet you do think me beautiful?”
“Why shouldn’t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see what that has to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will find plenty of men to admire—and love you.”
At that she blazed up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you imagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is not Crimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?”
“Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the temptation no farther—for it is a temptation, where a lovely woman is concerned. I am not my own master.”
“I’m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you humiliate me so?”
Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not my own master.”
“Then who is your master?”
“Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.”