That question was a lead-in to a conversation she wasn't sure she wanted to have. Vera hadn't been avoiding thoughts of Eragos and Sleeping Tiger, but she hadn't been encouraging her mind down that road either. She didn't regret being honest back at that ruined campsite. Her motivation for that honesty was what bothered her. In a time when Vera should have worn the mask of the diplomat or the Lady, she'd worn none. Her grief had been too strong to withstand another loss, even a necessary one.
Eragos' parting words should have cut her more deeply. The truth was that Vera, somewhere in her gut, had known Eragos would ride away from her questions. Blaming herself was not completely fair and too close to self-pitying. Their group had been splitting apart since they left Agethlea. Yet Vera had known her words would spark his temper. And if she'd wanted to keep the group together, even a little longer, she would have not asked even one of them.
Vera hadn't answered Eithne immediately. Her eyes went from staring down at that empty cup -- truly a loss -- to scanning the field in the distance. The land around them was mostly flat and without much trees. It was not hard to see when someone was riding up on you, but it did not give you much time to prepare for them either. Their campfire wasn't much of one at all, more embers than anything else. It was to avoid too much noticeable smoke.
She was increasingly paranoid the closer they got to Simanel. Faxril had made an attack on the city seem imminent and they were riding straight into it with only two Riders in good health...two Riders that had to defend one wounded and a child. Vera had no idea what they would find. Bahn seemed more optimistic, but she thought that was mostly an act.
"You ask that question knowing how he rides when he's angry."