[ She is still for a moment before holding up an index finger, asking for another moment, letting him know she hears him, she just needs to trust that she's not going to retch or faint or something dramatic and embarrassing. ]

[ When she can trust herself to speak, she lowers her hands to rest on her knees, not quite having the same trust in her balance just yet. ]

Sorry, it's not you. The word knight. [ She pauses, swallows, then goes on. ] In my native tongue, the translation is Chevalier, and hearing it makes me -- I don't know. It's like my body remembers it even if I don't. [ And, clearly, it's nothing good, not that she's surprised. ] This happened once before. I just need a minute.