"I..." Yelena's teeth click together as she forces herself to swallow the attempt to brush off Rue's concern. It's harder, somehow, than horror or disgust would be. It makes her feel like the victim of a trap.
Which she is, of course - there's no justice in the horrors of the mirrors, in old sins dredged up for no other reason than to inflict pain, whether they play out as they'd truly happened or are, as in this case, twisted into something even worse.
It's still uncomfortable to see herself that way. That this is almost certainly the point - to drive wedges between them, to drive them all even deeper into their secrets and their regrets - doesn't escape her.
She exhales slowly, steeling herself against the urge to retreat and lick her wounds in private. "I do like tea, yes. Thank you."
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Which she is, of course - there's no justice in the horrors of the mirrors, in old sins dredged up for no other reason than to inflict pain, whether they play out as they'd truly happened or are, as in this case, twisted into something even worse.
It's still uncomfortable to see herself that way. That this is almost certainly the point - to drive wedges between them, to drive them all even deeper into their secrets and their regrets - doesn't escape her.
She exhales slowly, steeling herself against the urge to retreat and lick her wounds in private. "I do like tea, yes. Thank you."