"How may I promise you that?"
"Because I am surety for my own honour."
She smiled in his face despite the occasion.
"You seem very sure of your own soul," she said.
"Madame, it has taken me ten years to come by so admirable a state. Self-knowledge carried to the depths, builds up self-trust. I may take it for granted that you hate the Lord Flavian of Gambrevault?"
"Need you ask that!"
Her eyes echoed the mood of the flame. Fulviac, watching her, saw the strong wrack of wrath twisting her delicate features for the moment into pathetic ugliness.
"You have courage," he said to her.
"Ample, messire."
"Flavian of Gambrevault is the greatest lord in the south."