Considering what she'd survived and done, she had no reason to feel inadequate. For all his education, he hadn't done a bloody useful thing with any of it.
"The sort who don't want to or the sort who plan before they do things?" he asked wryly. He shrugged. "Saints, at this point, going back to my shop and never picking up a weapon again sounds like paradise."
Cathair frowned as Eden began to concentrate on her food, eating quickly and not looking at him. It made him wonder what he'd said. Grabbing one of the bottles, he wrenched off the lid and took a long drink, then offered it to her.
"I came over to help make you feel better, not upset you more," he reminded her. "Feel free to tell me to shut up if say something idiotic."