Free The Dead God's Due (The Eye of the Lion Saga Book 1) by Matt Gilbert Page B

her place someday.”
    “Sometimes, a mother must
do what she thinks best for her child. She is wrong, but her heart
is in the right place.”
    Aiul snorted. “She has no
heart.”
    “It was torn from her,
Aiul. She has lost more than you know, more than you can imagine.
Find it in your heart to forgive her and speak of it no more. I can
just as easily give you what you asked of her. It will be our
secret.”
    “The Cradle?” Aiul
gasped, incredulous. “Truly?”
    Ariano nodded. “House
Talus will be honored to speak for you.”
    Aiul shook his head in wonder.
“What have I done to deserve such honor from you? You treat me
better than my own mother. You always have.”
    “You are wrong, Aiul.
Your mother has always taken care of you. But there are things you
don’t understand. Someday, perhaps you will.”
    Aiul shook his head and sighed.
“Is it part of the process, I wonder, of becoming a House
Elder, that one masters the art of speaking in riddles?”
    Ariano patted him on the cheek.
“There is a test you have to pass on just that very subject.
I’ll see to the recommendation first thing in the morning. But
now, I need my rest. And as for you, I think you have other things
to do, things that involve a considerably younger woman, eh?”
She gave him a slight wink.
    Aiul blushed and nodded. “Good
night, Ariano. And thank you again.”

    Does he love me?
Lara suppressed a frown as she studied Aiul’s face, searching,
probing. There must be a way to see.
The intention of forever ought to be clear in his eyes, if
only she knew how and what to look for. The lust there was plain,
and that pleased her well enough. Green, like his eyes. She ran a hand across his clean shaven, square jaw, now grown a bit
prickly in the evening, and sighed with pleasure. But does
he love me?
    She had had her share of men,
of course. It would be shameful to come to a marriage bed without
being skilled in lovemaking, but of love itself, she knew little.
The sum of her experience was the bitter sting of not having her own
returned. It may be too much to hope for. She
tried to feel subtle differences in his touch, to hear some
distinction in the sounds he made as they ground against one
another, but if they existed, they were beyond her. This
is well enough, though.
    “I’m sorry,”
she whispered as they lay together, sweat still trickling from their
bodies. “I’m not worth such trouble. Make peace with
your mother, Aiul.”
    Aiul lifted his head from her
breast and looked at her, aghast, his high cheekbones and furrowed
brow making him look both fierce and noble. “Do not speak
such!”
    “It’s true.”
    Aiul looked at her with a
mixture of humor and disbelief. “You would have peace between
me and my mother by driving a wedge between me and my child, between
me and my wife to be? That sounds like sense to you?”
    “I suppose not.”
She sighed and turned her head away. “But I’ll embarrass
you. I don’t know the rules. I don’t even know how to
dance!”
    “Then we shall forbid
dancing in our presence!” Aiul declared, striking a lordly
pose. “You think I jest? I am heir to House Amrath!” He
flexed his arm to bulge the muscles and grinned. “I have that
kind of power here.”
    Lara giggled but gave no
answer, and Aiul threw the bed covers aside and rose, naked.
“Garas!” he called.
    Lara rolled across the bed and
punched him lightly in his thigh. “What are you up to?”
    “You doubt me,” he
answered, dancing out of her reach. “I must earn your trust.”
    Garas, Aiul’s slave since
birth, was beginning to show a bit of gray in his hair, but was
otherwise unchanged by time since Aiul had known him: fat, jolly,
and red faced. He entered, carrying Aiul’s robe and a carafe
of water. “It seems you two are well,” he said with a
wry smile as he offered the robe to Aiul.
    Aiul slipped into the robe,
then fixed Garas with a very serious gaze. “We are. But there
is something important we must discuss