"You're the wronged party," she says, almost placidly. "...If this were home...well, no, if this were home the reigning monarch would have me in by my ear first and penalize me under the law, and then I could make peace. The bit where I already got my metaphorical or literal ass beat would give a bit of a different texture to traditional offers, apologies and oaths of non-violence, or wergild to make up what the law ran short on, or, y'know, a second, more literal ass beating. But this ain't a Freehold, and you're not my kind of monster. So. What's peace look like to you?"