She just stands there, gaping at him in openmouthed horror until a little squeak escapes her in the absence of words and she covers her mouth to keep from saying something that would destroy whatever remained of what they had.

But they'd never really had it.

She realizes that, and just stares at him in shocked, saddened silence until her mouth catches up with her brain and she finds the words to say so.

And what she finds herself saying surprises her.

"I'm sorry."

The words strike her as hollow, devoid of the feeling she'd have said them with if she were less shocked, less angry, less hurt. She thinks he blames her for it a little, and more than that, she thinks he's probably right. Curiosity was her downfall -- wasn't that what Illyria had told her once?

"I didn't mean to... this isn't how I pictured this conversation going. Here we are yelling at each other and I'm not even sure how we got to that from where we started."

The words themselves were peaceful enough, but there's a hard edge under them, anger held in check only because she doesn't want to end whatever's ending like this.