His soul had room only for the bright image of one unforgotten girl. It was plain enough what this woman, who was young and beautiful and a queen, was saying and he would not ordinarily have hung back.
Especially when the folk of Killorn were still strangers in a camp of allies who did not trust them very far, when Killorn needed every friend it could find. And the Broina were an elvish clan who had never let overly many scruples hold them.
Only—only he liked Sathi as a human being. She was brave and generous and wise and she was, really, so pitiably young. She had had so little chance to learn the hard truths of living in the loneliness of the imperium and only a scoundrel would hurt her.
She sighed, ever so faintly, and moved back a little. Kery thought he saw her stiffening. One does not reject the offer of a queen.
"Sathi," he said, "for you, perhaps, even a man of Killorn might forget his home."
She half turned to him, hesitating, unsure of herself and him. He took her in his arms and kissed her.
"Kery, Kery, Kery—" she whispered, and her lips stole back toward his.
He felt rather than heard a footfall and turned with the animal alertness of the barbarian. Jonan stood watching them.
"Pardon me," said the general harshly. His countenance was strained. Then suddenly, "Your majesty! This savage mauling you...."
Sathi lifted a proud dark head. "This is the prince consort of Imperial Ryvan," she said haughtily. "Conduct yourself accordingly. You may go."