Her heart sinks.

"I don't...that's not it at all. And you said Zevran--Mythal'enaste I must look such a fool. I am a fool."

Zevran the Entertainer. She leans against a nearby wall, arms folded.

"We didn't hear much detail as a clan in the Free Marches. And it was ten years ago. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you."

Not that she expects that's actually a problem, considering how little he and Zevran have been forthcoming about their roles in the Blight.