Her attempt at a joke seemed to have fallen flat, because his face fell at her question, destroying the mood she had been hoping to preserve. Miles might have been able to answer smoothly, but the jolt in his emotional state told her she'd stepped on something delicate. Valdis didn't press, not that he gave her the chance because he redirected the topic of conversation to her injuries.

Valdis hissed softly when foreign magic touched on her senses, closing the slashes as easily as her own magic might have. Miles seemed shocked, dropping his shirt and recoiling. It was enough to push what remained of her fear into the background. She released her death grip on her magic, letting it flow back around the slashes on her other arm. There was no light to accompany the healing, no strange magic.

"No," she replied, sounding confused, "I think that was you."