faeryshawke:

        She is startled from what had been somewhat pleasant daydream involving wine, women, and not a single qunari, ancient relic out for blood or runaway mage in sight, and her fingers curl all the tighter around the handle of her mug. It’s a shame that making a name for oneself actually involved people being able to find that name with ease, and it’s the bitter truth to that and the rude interruption that makes her bristle. She was never one for chit chat about dead missing brothers, anyway. She makes no attempt, feigned or otherwise as she looks up at the stranger with a slight glare.
                                                         “And who are you to ask?”

         "Both a Cousland, a curious man– and Ferelden’s Prince-Consort.“ It always feels like a good idea to get that title in there. Of course, there are plenty of people who forget all about respect regardless of his standing when it comes to the Fereldan hierarchy. Especially here in Kirkwall. It’s still worth a shot, though, just on the off-chance that it gets her to act a little… easier. "It was only a question. I meant nothing by it. You need not answer if you don’t wish to."