She could see that he felt some pain over what she was saying, and that made even the bit of emotions Emmeline felt seem small by comparison. And to think, even the amount she felt now was monumental for her. She finished off her first glass, and refilled it, swirling it around.
"It's not yours to apologize for," she said. "I know you want to say the right thing, but there's no right thing to say. Just speak your mind." In truth, right now, she wished he would talk, ask her more questions. It gave her more of an incentive to continue talking, when motivation inside herself was difficult to come by. "I couldn't find out who else was alive. I almost didn't want to know, most of the time; I was scared that everything had gone to hell while I was gone. And it had, of course." She sighed. "My father told me all about the politics in England, what he knew of them, anyway. And I listened, even though it almost killed me to be so.. stuck. Paralysis is worse than being unconscious, much worse."