It isn't the outcome she'd expected- oh someone was going to die in that mess of a ritual, it was too complicated for everyone to walk away unscathed and considering the established pattern? More than one of them should be dead. But no. Justice is gone, Anders is free, several people were terribly injured and...knowing that this thing could work does not bring as much comfort as it ought. There is no way to test it a second time as they are fresh out of abominations. The usual thrill of being right, of pulling off the theoretically impossible is absent. Hobbling is entirely inelegant but it does not seem terribly wise to drink alone and Dorian is not one to make house calls. Thus she stirs herself to shuffle her way to his rooms, knocking and waiting with a bottle of very fine Orlesian wine tucked into her elbow. If she is to drink, she will drink well.