She keeps her expression neutral again as she watches Kuvira refill her cup.

That... tracked, she supposed. A zealot so driven she would sacrifice the person she loved. Instinctively, she rejects the notion. Azula was never an ideologue or a zealot, and there was nothing that her deeds could cost her, because there was nobody she cared about enough to fear losing.

Sharp pain in her shoulder, a dull impact on her side, her legs go weak and numb, and she gasps in shock as she collapses onto the gondola platform-

She realizes her hand is clutching the teacup so tightly her hand trembles, and she quickly sets it down so she won't break it.

"Nobody ever said making history would be comfortable. Surely for a noble enough cause it was worth the sacrifices."