"I'm here because this is the only place with rift mages that might know how to keep me alive," she remarks, tartly, gesturing with the hand that bears the shard; she's already got a hint of a suspicion as to what he's talking about as she moves toward the table, holding her skirts out of the dust, but waits to confirm -
Her own face looking up at her. Does she really look like that? It's the same thought she has every time she sees the final copies, and...yes, probably. In the picture, though, she's solemn; when she turns around, holding it, she's trying not to smile.
"It isn't an official Inquisition publication," she says, careful of preening too obviously - Cullen is absolutely going to hear about this - and gesturing with the paper. "But I do have the sanction of the advisors and they do approve my drafts. For the record."
He is here because of her. It works. If she weren't starting from such a low place, she might dance around the undercroft, it's so pleasing.
no subject
Her own face looking up at her. Does she really look like that? It's the same thought she has every time she sees the final copies, and...yes, probably. In the picture, though, she's solemn; when she turns around, holding it, she's trying not to smile.
"It isn't an official Inquisition publication," she says, careful of preening too obviously - Cullen is absolutely going to hear about this - and gesturing with the paper. "But I do have the sanction of the advisors and they do approve my drafts. For the record."
He is here because of her. It works. If she weren't starting from such a low place, she might dance around the undercroft, it's so pleasing.