"Yeah I can do it," Matthias says, hotly, "don't-- Look, I was going to do it already. All right? Before--this."

He waves a hand between them, a gesture that encompasses the whole of this talk that has turned far too serious. There's a churning of emotion in him that he doesn't know what to do with, and she can sit there looking all keen and sharp while he feels like a wet wool robe worn inside out, all too-small and itchy and hot, like under-the-skin hot.

"'Cause--well, I dunno. 'Cause what happens. Where you're from, mages are in charge now, but they weren't before--so some day they won't be again, and it'll go back to them getting shat on while everyone else is a bastard to them? I never said it ought to be that way. Some people are just bastards. You can't say they're not."