She clicked her heels together and stood upright. Despite her best attempts, she couldn't raise her eyes. "What is it, my king?"

"Oh please, drop the formalities. I just couldn't be that casual around . . . them." The last word was spoken in his regal tone. Shaking his head, he went down on one knee, at around chest-level for Catra. She could feel her claws piercing into the skin of her palms.

"Catra . . . for all it's worth, I'm sorry. I did not trust them, and I didn't think of the consequences of using such a spell in your presence."

"I'm . . . fine. I assure you, you don't need to, worry, about me." She could barely speak. She had a breakdown, big deal. She also committed treason by letting that traitor in. When was he finally going to get over the formalities and get to that?

"Catra . . ." carefully, he reached for her cheek. Before she had time to think, Catra's hand lashed up, raking Micah's arm and slapping it away. Only a moment later did her mind catch up to her actions, as she stared blankly at Micah's bleeding arm and his aghast expression.

"I . . ." She felt something twist inside her. She should not have done that. "I have to go."