If it were not set at Cerise's back for support, Herian's hand would be shaking. Liar. Vicious little spider. Her heart thunders, but the storm is a private one . No one will known the lurch of sea and the crash of lightning within her. A second Dalish arrives, and though there is no smile, her expression is calm - neutral. Herian is the very picture of slightly stern serenity.

"Nothing of great consequence." Undercutting the injury inflicted, the knives set against her oen heart. More Dalish, sporting a false smile and false friendliness. Herian saw players of the Game, throughout Orlais. She was aware politics had a role even in the lives of the Circle mages. Knights, she believed, should be separate from it. Political agenda was not what mattered, only doing what was right, honourable and just.

The Dalish wishes to smile sweetly, sooner than start a fight? Herian preferred it so, for the sake of those with her and the woman clutching her arm.

"We had a rather stark disagreement in our discussion. I fear, though, that your friend maybe be in need of aid, herself."

The concern is genuine. She hates the Dalish, but she has no love of suffering.