Retoc shook his head slowly.
"You see? I knew it. I knew it was you when they told us Jlomec had been slain, and yet because I know you and know too how you are quick to passion, I told myself you had not done it consciously because I had suggested it to you. Fool. Can I trust such as you?"
"Only Bontarc stands between you and empire. And Bontarc is a simple man."
"As you are a passionate man."
"Yet you need me, Volna. You need the strength of my arm—and my army. What a pair we'll make!"
Volna stepped into the embrace of his big arms and allowed herself to be kissed. Retoc burned for her. He had said so. All men burned for her, she knew that. And, before she was finished, every man of Tarth would kneel at her feet and call her Queen.
Retoc drew back finally, breathing hard. Volna had for him only a cool, mocking smile.
At last he said, "There are some who might say Retoc of Abaria killed the royal prince."
"Dolt! Were you seen?"