Who was he to judge her satisfaction in it? Would he feel any less if it were someone that had taken Vex? (She had been taken when she was a child, as a matter of fact. Though she'd managed in her own remarkable way, he certainly remembered.) Wouldn't he need to feel the life bleed out of them under his very own blades, his own hands, to feel as if he'd made any difference at all?

Hadn't he done so much worse, for so much less?

"That's worth something," he agreed quietly. "...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to open an old wound."