Maybe she wouldn't have hurt him, but he can't say the same for his less agreeable self. Whatever Daine had to do to keep him from hurting anyone else, well, good. He's more than earned it at this point.

"Fixed this." He indicates the dark stain on his shirt with the swift sweep of a hand. "Guess outta the goodness of his heart. Some rifty, said he lived with the Rebels. Or - I guess he did." It's just still goddamn weird to think about, remembering that the Rebels have been effectively dismantled, and partially for his sake.

"I think someone stabbed me," he adds, low and hurried. "No idea who."