For a moment, she is quite speechless in the face of so much kindness. Even though she can't agree with what he says, the fact that he's saying such nice and encouraging things at all is so unexpected and generous. It really is a shame that he's wrong.

"You are so lovely for believing that of me," she says earnestly, if a little regretfully. "But you do not know my brother, or our unique situation. He's the one with all the cursed tenacity and bollocksing stubbornness, while I was silly enough to believe I could wrangle him into cooperation, right up until he had me murdered. I really should have seen his final move coming." Familiar frustration and anger at her brother is bubbling up inside her and she frowns ponderously, though underneath that she still feels like crying for how useless and hopeless she is now, and it threatens to break her voice. "Hanging on after death is rather inevitable, and I am still not doing anyone much good, because I'm too bloody scared to leave my hideout and actually go search for my other self!" Now the frustration has turned on her and she has to squeeze her empty eyes shut against the feeling of tears.