That strength in Marius was rare to see displayed so openly, Joly thought, envisioning only a few other times in his aquaintance with the man that it had appeared, first, while defending Bonaparte the night he had made his acquaintance at the cafe, and then at the barricades themselves. For all that it was rare to see, and somewhat easy to doubt as part of Marius, the gesture of it now was still convincing, and he found himself nodding.

Joly knew perfectly well he was a dead man too, and that had been before he'd known that anyone from home was even here with him. It only stood to reason, and, in truth, he preferred it this way. Musichetta would have scolded him for expecting that he lose his life in saving her from such a fate as the arena, likely, but he knew damned well he would have done it all the same. So he understood, certainly, where Marius was coming from in his vow, and well, he was willing to die for such a cause as this.

"Then what is it you would have me to to aid in this?" He found himself asking. "How is it I might help you now?"