Roland considered this for several moments, while she tied off the bandage and lowered her hands. At last, turning slightly to meet her eyes, he reached out rather cautiously to tuck her hair back behind her ear. "There are worse ways to deal with it," he said, his voice low. "You cope by putting your energy into doing what's right. There are plenty who can't do that. As for weak... what I saw of you today was anything but weak. You might not truly kennit, but you're a gunslinger at heart, and you have a gunslinger's strength. Telling yourself otherwise is only going to drag you down." Taking the medicine case from her, he snapped it shut and got up to return it to its drawer.

"I haven't been fair to you," he said after a moment, turning back to her with his back against the chest of drawers. He didn't sound self-deprecating or apologetic; he sounded as if he were stating a self-evident fact. "I've been running scared, and that is the truth. And, at the best of times, I'm not a gentle man. But if you feel alone here..." He pressed his lips together for a moment, closing his eyes, and tried to feel his way to a conclusion. "That's not right."

Running a hand back through his hair, he looked down at her with a slight frown. "I know the loyalty you show me is political, not personal. I appreciate that. But still, I have shown you little loyalty in return. And that's not right, either."