"Don't be," she murmurs, head still resting against him. "I asked, and you answered." She takes to joining him staring at the ground as if staring at something solid and unchanging will help make sense of this all. It won't, but she does it anyway.

"But they were all a part of you." Pieces of him given to other people. Soldiers. For war. It always comes down to a war, doesn't it? Everything horrible happens because of war. Mages being cut down by Templars, a father never getting to see his daughter again; all of it.

Her voice is hardly above a whisper when she says, "You used to be someone else, but he took that from you."