She'll do as asked, but only because it means she can pretend for a moment that he's not looking at her with concern. It falls right under 'pity' in her list of things she hates other people to feel for her. She's strong enough on her own - no one should have to be strong for her. Her eyes close, she takes a slow, deep breath, lets it out slowly, then opens her eyes. Nothing has changed, but she feels somehow... different about it. Not a lot, but enough.

"I suppose you're right," she concedes. "I've spent so much time dwelling on how things could go wrong that I forgot to wonder what would happen if everything I planned for them went right." A handkerchief is produced from one of her many pouches and used to wipe off her cheeks. There are still tears in her eyes, so she doesn't dare dab at them yet, lest they might start falling, too. "It's hard to remember things like that when you're completely alone, though."