[ It's a hard look that Morrigan gets from the elf perched beside her. One that seems to be deciding how much you can believe a witch, or not even that, but a shem, one that's frocked it up in the courts of the Orlesian Empire, taken tea with a monster like the Empress, one claiming now that her loyalty is merely circumstantial.
One in possession of an Eluvian. ]
We don't choose our Empresses, [ she concedes, raising an eyebrow. ] Except you, maybe.
no subject
One in possession of an Eluvian. ]
We don't choose our Empresses, [ she concedes, raising an eyebrow. ] Except you, maybe.
[ She looks back towards the sealed door. ]
You believe in this all? In the Inquisition?