Cassandra is still shaking with suppressed indignation and fury as she makes her way across the courtyard and through the Great Hall, heedless of the startled, curious looks she attracts. Those who find themselves in her path remove themselves from it quickly. She had said little over the sending crystals, merely telling the Inquisition's advisors in short, terse words to meet her in the War Room.
This is a disaster. How could she have been so blind? All those people, appearing from the rifts alongside the demons...and they had been taken in with hardly a pause. No one had questioned who they were or where they came from, much less what they could do, or what they would dare to do.
Maker, how could she have been so blind?
She arrives first and sits down to wait for the others, but all too soon she finds herself back on her feet, pacing impatiently. The soldiers appear a few moments later and confirm that Galadriel is secured in one of the fortress's cells. They lay the items they had confiscated on the table as they report; the elf's staff takes up the better part of the map, and beside it sits a strange, glowing glass. Cassandra dismisses the soldiers shortly, and they retreat from the room.
And then there is nothing to do but wait, to try to calm herself so that she can think. She longs to act, to confirm that no one else threatens the Inquisition as Galadriel does, but she can not act alone now. They are the Inquisition; she must at least tell the others. She has no doubt that they will all be as horrified as she is.