"With the resources tied into the war it has been difficult even to be sure of timely letters between Val Royeaux and Kirkwall," Alexandrie muses, flicking her gaze briefly to Fifi and nodding slightly—she's fine too. "The way Tevinter has been so embroiled, I cannot imagine you have been much in contact with Lord Asgard."

She wonders if Odin even knows. How horrible. He must know. She curves her thumb to run her nail along the delicate porcelain of the cup's handle as something else occurs to her suddenly about Tevinter being so embroiled. "Will you stay with the Inquisition's efforts, or will the House call for its sons?"

Are you leaving? (Is he?)