"One day .... one day, I will." Now his eyes go hard as emeralds, and his jaw is tight with anger -- and grief. "One day I will have my sword to her throat and ... "

Here, he falters for a moment, and sighs. "And I do not know what I will do. I should bring her to the Chantry, or even the Inquisition, for judgement. As it stands -- I think I shall just be happy not to murder her with my own bare hands."

Because that is what it would be, in that moment. Rage-filled, grief-filled murder.