Her lip actually quivers when he offers his getaway plan, and her right hand quickly shoots up to cover her mouth as she looks away, revealed eye too damp too hide her fears. It takes several moments for her to find a breath that doesn't falter.

"I love him. I love him, my dear, sweet Henry. He courted me for years, did you know? Our passion made all else in the world seem as nothing but dust, and was a thing of legend that could lie among the Greeks." Was, she says. She can't correct herself. "He is the most gracious of princes, my most beloved lord and sovereign, and I never—"

When she looks back to him, there's a wild strain to her gaze as she leans over to try to grapple for leverage on him, hand finally gripping his arm to a bruising degree as she searches his eyes.

"I never had offended with my body against my lord, by God's good grace! You must believe me. You must. I thought this was a dream, it was supposed to be a mere dream. No dream can be a crime, can it? But it is not, it is not.

You must believe me."