He felt his colour rise as he returned her gaze. It was her first allusion to the past. He had supposed she had forgotten. For a moment he remained awkwardly silent.
"Do you remember?" she asked.
"I remember."
"The danger was a grave one. Your Highness may recall that but for my warning you would not have been advised of it."
"I remember," he said again.
She paused a moment. "The danger," she repeated, "was a grave one; but it threatened only your Highness's person. Your Highness listened to me then; will you listen again if I advise you of a greater—a peril threatening not only your person but your throne?"
Odo smiled. He could guess now what was coming. She had been drilled to act as the mouthpiece of the opposition. He composed his features and said quietly: "These are grave words, madam. I know of no such peril—but I am always ready to listen to your Highness."
His smile had betrayed him, and a quick flame of anger passed over her face.
"Why should you listen to me, since you never heed what I say?"
"Your Highness has just reminded me that I did so once—"