She is far too experienced a bard to falter, though the comment cuts deep. The things they had all seen in the Deep Roads, in Denerim, all across Ferelden as they journeyed and fought to survive and to save their world from another Blight. The smoldering remains of Lothering, the desecration of a place that had meant to much to her, symbolised so much peace and change, they were all branded on her, all etched into her. Perhaps not so easy to spot as the scars from Marjolaine's dagger or Harwen Raleigh's torture, though Leliana keeps those well covered, as well. Her face is all that remains visible, wrapped up in leather and cloth and chain mail, armoured and removed, as the Nightingale must be.

But at least with her face still visible it is possible to see her gaze, and Hermione's words cut as cruelly as any knife. "Surviving is an achievement," she allows, and slowly, and her voice stays steady because it must, because that is who she is. I am steel. I do not relent. "Though never without cost. 'Victory' is a fickle creature."

(There are times when she wonders what she will find of herself, when this war is over. She carves away pieces of herself to make herself a weapon the Inquisition can use, that is must use, but what will remain when all is done? Even now there are those who say she is no longer Leliana. They are right. She has changed so that they need not.)

"A Spymaster's work is never done," Leliana offers by way of explanation. "There is ever more to see and to hear, but I will see Thedas safe." No matter what it takes. No matter what sacrifices she must make, they will be worth it to protect the Inquisition, and the Rifters, and Thedas. "But I will look forward to it, as well. I will send a runner to you later, with some recommended reading."