He keeps hesitating to give her details, and it's telling her more than he realizes. Especially with the concession that, yes, it had become a full-scale war. She can guess. And he's right that she's devastated by it.

"Not here," she agrees quietly. And carefully, she lets herself sink against his side, shoulder pressed to his arm, her lips pressed tight together to keep her composure. When she speaks up again, it's quiet so that nobody else can hear the way her voice cracks. "When you're ready to go and rest, I can show you to your room upstairs. You can tell me then."