"Where is Gothelindis? Where is Theodahad?" whispered Petros.
"I left them outside the palace. The two women hate each other too bitterly. Their passion would spoil all."
"You are not my good angel, Prefect of Rome," said Amalaswintha, turning away from him gloomily, as he approached.
"This time perhaps I am," whispered Cethegus, going close up to her. "You have rejected the proposals from Byzantium, as I expected you would. Dismiss that false Greek."
At a sign from the Queen, Petros retired into an ante-room.
"What would you with me, Cethegus? I trust you no longer."
"You have trusted the Emperor instead of me, and you see the consequences."
"I do indeed," she answered in deep grief.
"Queen, I have never deceived you in this: that I love Italy and Rome more than the Goths. You will remember that I never concealed it from you."
"I know it, and do not blame you."