You must understand, monsieur, that conceding here often means that Val sleeps on the floor, or perhaps with the horses, and awakes with dust or hay in his hair—there is no dignity in it at all. Merely decency.

As for his marvelousness: picture if you will a mountain crowned by a perfect cap of snow. The halo of gold on the horizon during a sunset at sea. The mosaic ceiling of the Chantry in Val Firmin. The image of Valentine in a crown is not only comparable to these, but preferable.