"Part of me cannot believe those statues survived the battle that took place when the Champion was there, from the story I read and what I've heard." Araceli dodged it, rapiers not much good against something like those and instead required to seal rifts that had sprung up instead but she'd come to Kirkwall armed with knowledge too.

Rolling her eyes, she mutters the same complains as she ever does about Lux but does it in her own tongue. Korrin's heard them enough that Araceli feels confident she knows them all at least by tone anyway. "It's a fox thing. He'd roll in them too. He's done it before and if I take my eyes off him in the wrong place he'll do it again." She counts herself lucky that fear of corpses kept him from rolling in the muck of the Fallow Mire.

"Martel," one day Araceli's voice will stop hitching when she has to say his name but his loss is fresh enough that it hurts, that it's unfair, that she doesn't manage it today, "threatened to take a cane to the back of my knees if I made a beggar or him, or words to that effect. It isn't that bad but what I do requires me to be appropriately dressed." That also requires her to have enough that she can make sure she doesn't wear the same dresses too often in the same company or wear something that might signal allegiance. Colours and cuts and decoration all send a message, it's just done differently in Thedas.