Suddenly I shook my head a little, to clear it. For her eyes, a moment ago so fascinating, suddenly made me uneasy. It was as if claws had reached from their brightness and fastened upon me. She steadfastly fixed my gaze with hers.
"Yandro...." Her voice was soft, monotonous. "All is well with you ... trust us, trust me, Elonie ... I shall guide you to victory, you need have no qualms...."
Her arm stole across my chest, curved around my neck. She drew my head toward hers. Her brilliant eyes seemed to fill the whole field of my vision, impelling, hypnotic—
Hypnotic—that was it!
The strange half-lost thoughts from my unknown former life sized the idea and held it up to me. Danger, danger, they were crying at me. Most ungallantly I took her wrist and disengaged myself from her embrace.
"Since I am destined for war, is there time for this?" I asked, trying to laugh.
"Is there not?" she murmured.
I rose from where I sat, and sipped more wine. Where it had fuddled me before, it cleared me now. "Elonie, you are charming. I do not know whether I have standards by which to judge, but you do things to men. Perhaps I should have time to make up my own mind."
"If I have offended—" she began to stammer.
"Oh, not in the least. But there is so much for me to be sure of."