You speak of love, but I know that you don't understand what it is. Tell me Diarmuid, have you really ever loved me? The words you said to me the other week speak volumes over your actions of the past years we have spent together. I am told that it is common... very common in fact, for husbands and wives to part in this era.

[ It'd be so easy to just crack and confess her love. To inform him how lonely the nights are without him and just how much it pains her to be away from him. Yet, he blames that stupid spot on his face. Maybe that was the source of everything, but after having so many children, after all they have endured, she can proclaim her love in confidence.

To all but him apparently. ]

So seek out your other woman, Diarmuid. Seek her out and find the happiness I have failed to give you all this time. I do not wish for you to come to me with pity for my death and try to make things right for I fell. Do not make the same mistake I did with our lord.