It's a good question. Why is she here?

"I am an honoured guest."

The dream insists. Why? Why should Tevinter honour her? She has burned their soldiers. Finger finds temple, streaks blood over white, where spell once sucked the life from skin; where Yann tore the man off her with his hands. Yann. Yann is in Seheron, and Seheron is —

Pain swells, the old pressure before a storm. The hall sways a little. Shivers.

"This is how you say prisoner."

Unimaginable, to one of them. The dream thins before her step.