Thierry looks at Simon de Montpierre, pretending utter disbelief. He slowly raises.
Sieur de Montpierre, really now. Chivarly?
We are surrounded by rebels and we have English dogs waiting to tear us apart and you speak of "chivarly". We'll be lucky if we manage to survive all these threats. Keep your chivarly for fairy tales or for the moment where we are so powerful that we outnumber all our foes combined. Until then, I'd prefer realism. There are more important matters at hand than being "chivalrous". This is not a tournament were the worst that can happen to you is a damaged helmet or a broken lance.
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