Malcolm is aware of his surroundings, not through any preternatural sense, but simply through a mix of observation, training, and a dose of what some might call paranoia. With as many people as there are within Skyhold, he does not jump at shadows and would claim to never have done, so the presence behind him he pays little attention to until the voice is heard.

He stops short in surprise, twists slowly at the waist to see her. "Lady Thevenet," he greets with his own subdued warmth, turning the rest of the way and giving a short, polite bow.

"Yes, within the past few days, in fact. I can't say that I expected to see your face gracing these halls. If I may ask: your mother's will, or your own?"