“I’m not upset,” Aria snapped. There was a bit too much venom behind the words. It burnt her throat, made her tongue feel cracked and dry. She swallowed nothing.

“Nyreen chose to do that. It wasn’t a tragedy, it was the heroism of a fool.”

She turned away, arms crossed tight. She was rubbing them for a moment, but stopped as she realized the self-soothing motion. She didn’t need to be soothed. She wasn’t distraught.

“Don’t pretend to know how I felt about her. I felt nothing. I am Aria T’Loak, I am not held back by such weaknesses as a too-good hero who thinks sacrificing herself actually helps anyone!”

Her voice was cracking. It only spurred on her anger. Why did Nyreen have to do that? What did she think her dying would solve?