( That gets a bitter bark of laughter from Benedikta, who folds her arms across her chest as she cocks her hip just so. Her body language is wholly condescending — like Clive is little more than one of Barnabas's wholly expendable soldiers and not the man who finally killed her. )

And you clearly don't know Cid either.

( Her expression turns vicious. )

You think you understand him? Understand what he did to me?

( She stops short, aware she could easily reveal too much of her hand if her temper gets the better of her. That's always been the way with her, after all: cool and collected until all of a sudden she's exploding into a rage. )

If he thought I was better than this he wouldn't have abandoned me. That is the truth.

( Benedikta's understanding of it, anyway. )