Sorry Bene, only one free save per instance of conversation. Besides, she is deeply enjoying being prettily arrayed across Loki's lap with a glass of cool and particularly fruity wine in one hand and the means to create a personal breeze in the other, watching him lay out his thoughts as one very familiar with the game might discuss the set of a chessboard.

Handsome, well-dressed, incisive, agile in all manner of things, and a surpassingly good fuck. Hurrah me! Following him after the competition at the tourney on a whim ranked easily among the best decisions she'd ever made.

"Leave the machinations to only the powerful?" Alexandrie asks, aghast, "Perish the thought. Everyone down to the servants plays the Game in Orlais, and it's much more exciting that way. Who shall fall, who shall rise, who holds the true power, all of it a constantly shifting dance." She sighs happily. "Beautiful and fierce." She turns back to look up at Loki. "It seems to me that the Inquisition has already made two choices," she says, inclining her head towards one man and then the other, "so the cascade will have already begun. I imagine if that is left unacknowledged we shall look woefully underprepared, but simultaneously I have observed that the Inquisition tends to change even entrenched structure wherever it reaches. Like a novice surprising a master with some wild unruly gambit."