[She stands right in front of the table, looking down at him. Her eyes are harsh, cold, very unlike herself. She doesn't yell, but her voice is firm and serious. Her mind flashes back to her stand-off with the Goblin King in his castle, the last time she felt this way.]

You. Murdered. Someone. And for what? Because some frog told you to? That means that you're no better than the monster keeping us here. [she pauses for a moment] No... that makes you worse. You're a killer. And you have the... the... nerve to come here and ask about coffee while we mourn the man you killed? What's wrong with you?!