Her hands wrap tight around the cup. She knows that Diarmuid is being modest. But it still frustrates her to hear him talk about his emotional fortitude like it was a simple matter.

She would never have been able to comfort another, no matter how hard she tried. She doubts that she could have his patience or his gentle nature, even if she did fall in love with anyone. In the end, she was an existence only fit for battle.

"Yes, it is as Cu Chulainn says. You have a rare skill in that area."

Perhaps if either of them listen hard, they can hear the bitterness in her voice.