“Is it never longing for love you are?”
“There is but one love for us who have taken the vows of chastity.”
“What is chastity?”
Cathal raised his eyes and glanced at Ardanna. Her dark-blue eyes looked at him pure and sweet, though a smile was upon her mouth. He sighed.
“It is the sanctity of the body, Ardanna.”
“I do not understand,” she said simply. “But tell me this, poor Cathal—”
“Why do you call me poor Cathal?”
“Because you have put your manhood from you—and you so young, and strong, and comely—and are not a warrior, and care neither for the sword, nor the chase, nor the harp, nor for women.”
Cathal was troubled. He looked again and again at Ardanna. The sunset light was in her yellow hair, which was about her as a glory. He had seen the moon as wondrous pale as her beautiful face. Like lilies her white hands were. He had dreamed of that flamelight in the eyes.
“I care,” he said.