Enid could drink fast when she wanted to — she was a farm girl, and while she had never engaged much in debauchery, she had tried to drink some of her brothers under the table before. And she was trying, but she could still only finish a third of the ale while Nigel was talking. Her cheeks were flushed with the effort.

She waved a hand for him to continue, but paused in her fervent sipping to say, "I don't think what I do is particularly admirable — I'm good at it, so I should do it. And what you do is useful, too." Enid wouldn't have any skills in terms of dealing with dragons in their physicality.