'Both' is the answer that comes most swiftly to mind - he is a born meddler, too, whatever pious things he thinks of himself - but it isn't the whole answer. And the whole answer is...nothing she can give, so she sits back, a moment, tries to order her thoughts into something palatable. Something she can share. Use.

"It's been some time," she says, eventually. "And I've been accustomed to being..."

On her own? No, not quite.

"You're so much Orlais, bon-papa," she says, finally, a little bit wry, a little bit bitter. She's grown used to how far away it is, and he's brought it so much nearer. She didn't ask for that.