The combination of the woman's words and the sudden change in her face was enough to make Elsa loose her hold on the calm. The black velvet slipped out of her hands, her control slipped and instinctively she shrank back again, even further back so that she ended up with the reassuring stone of the wall behind her. She was more convinced than ever that this woman, Pasqua, was not a part of the chantry. It was not possible, because initiates - although they sometimes arrived puffed up with their own importance - did not speak with such authority. And Elsa Vargas had never met a woman who spoke like a man before. It added to the confusion, to the feeling that the world was suddenly lurching around her. Pressing her back against the cold stone, she tried to think, but her mind was sluggish now that her practised calm had escaped. Her fearless attitude driven away, she stared at the person in front of her, and tried to swallow. She was used to cat fights and manipulations from the women around her - they all had in common that that was the one way they could exert some measure of power over their daily lives - but she had never met a woman like this one.
"I would help!" she assured quickly, too quickly, her willingness induced by a fear she could not quite name. "Of course I will help!" Her previous plans and thoughts had gone up in smoke and now she was acting without thinking.