“Malak,” she said simply, no threat, no bravado. Merely his name, all the battle cry she would need. And all the condemnation, all the curse. Bastila’s despair and her plea for death were still too vivid.
“Vain? Someone should teach both of you manners! The sky has always been blue and that’s the way it will always be! I’m the wisest of all of you! I should know!”