Croft smiled into her troubled face again. "My tongue I may control," he declared. "But my heart can I not curb in its mad passion for the maid, nor make it less rebel against this plighted troth."
"Robur approves not of it, nor I," Gaya told him softly. "Love brought Milidhur and Aphur together. But—this—this is of—of other design." And suddenly she knit her well-formed brows. "Jasor," said she speaking very quickly; "you are strong—you have thoughts above other men, and something tells me the maid would lie happy in your arms."
Croft sprang to his feet. "You would approve it, Gaya, my sweet friend?" he exclaimed with flashing eyes.
"I am a woman," she replied in almost breathless fashion. "Naia loathes this Cathurian prince."
"And a cycle lies before us, ere he claims her for his own," Croft smiled.
"What mean you?" Gaya half rose. Her hand lifted to her breast.
"Nay." Croft shook his head. "I cannot tell you. Yet, as you say, I am strong, and I shall make Aphur and Tamarizia strong as myself and stronger a thousand fold. Remember, therefore, the words I have told you to speak, and say them close in my ear, in case any need should arise."