It still makes her bristle, at first, at the implication it needs to be said; that she could have possibly been anything other than exceptionally clever. And she's so sick of everything, it's so tempting to just take offense and fight with him. Not because she's angry with him, particularly, not because she finds being called clever such a terrible thing, not for any reason but that it's so much easier to be angry than anything else she feels, right now.

Maybe it would make her feel better.

She knows it wouldn't. She says, "The servants mixed most of them at home. I only know a little." Which doesn't sound like much, except in the way that she does set down what she's been doing and shift so he can show her something else, if he means to.

After a moment, unprompted, she volunteers, "I can reset a dislocation, though. If someone holds them still. And I've sewn wounds." None of this is anything she's done here.