I asked him to pass the butter, for though as one marked by Kushiel's Dart, my greatest pleasure lies in pain, yet I am D'Angeline, and appreciate the finer things in life. Golden butter, springing from the roseate udders of the exquisite cattle of L'Agnace, was a pure joy I had neither strength nor inclination to deny.
"It's the butter you desire?" said Joscelin, my beloved, brave Cassiline. Well I knew the agonies that tore him even to acknowledge my desires, for the Cassiline brethren are trained to asceticism. Though they appreciate the beauty that is their birthright, as any born on Elua's blessed land must, the beauty they are drawn to is stern and cold, allowing not for butter.
"Yes," said I: and truly, it broke my heart to say it.
He passed the butter, but I could tell with by one glance at his white face, still and beautiful as suffering carved into marble, that it cost him much. I do not think his heart could grieve more than mine did, that day when I asked him to pass the butter.