[She can't know how badly her words hit him, how much he viscerally repels against any idea that any part of him would want to make nice with the steaming pile of nugshit that is that thaig. Kit sets the crystal aside for a moment and rubs his eyebrows.

When he speaks again, though, his tone remains easy, affable.] All right, suit yourself. No harm done.

[He lets it go.]