No it's not, he thought, curling fingers against his sleeve at the shoulder. Even if it was, it wasn't. He was...almost certain of that. And even if it was, it was the only thing he had to do. So he'd do it.

But he wouldn't cough up a good enough excuse for it, that was certain. He let Bariyan's words hang there, true or not, without any open protest. They were probably true, anyway. Even if they weren't. He didn't want nor expect encouragement; didn't deserve it.

I killed three people. It's going to be four.