"Because it follows that anything I've ever known just isn't ever going to be that big a deal to him."

He says, at last, and has to get off the bed, and away from him, busying himself finding a teacup, going to fill it with water.

"Not rape, not death, not mutilated souls- and shit, this is why I hate this conversation so much. I don't actually want to talk to either of you about any of that, especially not if you're just going to look at me smugly like that's nothing, cadet. Or worse, like oh, look at the little civilian, exposed to things only a soldier should see. It's just a nasty little trap where I either flay myself, or cede the argument. So please, for the love of fucking God, take the victory. I'm wrong about magic. None of it is that bad."