Lexa is very nearly at the end of her patience with Bellamy. That much will not be difficult for a woman of Leliana's skills to discern, even as Lexa lowers her head for a moment as he speaks, the better to focus on tugging the last knot free with her teeth. The rope unravels and frees her hands; her wrists are sore and chafed beneath her cuffs but she rubs at them once with gloved palms before she tugs her sleeves straight. The gloves are fingerless and beaded, the design on one like a skeletal hand traced over the real one. She sets her elbows on the chair's arms and folds hands in her lap.

It's all very deliberate, the tense, careful motion of someone weary and wary and angry all at once and trying to keep it under wraps. Bellamy keeps talking and Lexa's jaw works side to side, teeth clenched tight. She breathes in once through her nose and out and then, when he has finished, she carries on like he hasn't said a word and answers Leliana's question. She doesn't shy from scrutiny as she does it, holding eye contact as long as the spymaster likes. Her eyes are a muddled shade of green, and as much as she can convey her seriousness this way, she does.

"I believe you are sincere in your desire to bring peace. None of you agree on what that means beyond stopping the rifts and the thing that made them, but that is a priority my people and I could support. We wish to see an end to the demon plague just as you do."