“You cannot love her, Hardane. It’s impossible.” “I’m afraid it’s very possible, mother mine.” “But the prophesy . . . it must be fulfilled. Only your sons can bring an end to the constant warring between Argone and Mouldour. Would you let hundreds, perhaps thousands, of others suffer simply to satisfy your lust?” She held up her hand to silence the protest that sprang to his lips. “Yes, lust, that’s all it is.” “No!” “Hardane, you’re a man, a warrior. Perhaps it was wrong of me to invoke your promise to remain celibate until you wed Carrick’s daughter. But I wanted only the best for you, and for Selene. No matter what others say, a man who can control his appetites is a man to be reckoned with.” “Jared—” “Jared is not the heir to the throne of Argone. It matters not if he spills his seed like water upon the ground.” “I hear you, mother mine,” Hardane said, his voice heavy. “I hear you.” Rising, he began to pace the floor, his long strides carrying him effortlessly across the room as he sought to sort through his thoughts, looking for a way to make his mother understand what he felt.
