Though talking through the issue with Cullen had brought Sylvanni closer to her final decision, she felt there was one more step she needed to take before she was truly ready. The long staircase underneath Skyhold's gardens felt dim and cramped, despite the torches on the walls. She wondered if the original architects of the keep had done that intentionally, as a way to effect that sense of inescapability upon prisoners even as they were being ushered in.
The guard at the bottom of the stairs saluted her as she walked into the room. Sylvanni nodded for the woman to fall at ease, but was pleased to see Cullen's soldiers well-trained enough to be attentive even on boring guard duties such as watching the cells. Sylvanni gave the guard a questioning look, and the woman gestured off to the left. There was only one prisoner being held here at the moment, only one person she could be here to see.
Antoine was asleep as the Inquisitor stepped up to the bars of his cell door. The pitiful creature huddled on dark stone was a far cry from the noble duke she had intruded upon all those weeks ago. She observed silently for a few moments, then, not entirely sure what had drawn her to come look at him, she turned to leave.
A careless scrape of her boot roused him, and she paused, turning back as he sat up with a groan. "Wha… who's there?" His eyes focused, and there was something intensely satisfying in his terrified flinch upon recognizing her. "I-I was starting to wonder if you would show up. What do you want?"
She faced him fully, crossing her arms. "I am told you were excessively forthcoming in questioning. My agents say they needed to use very little… encouragement to get you to talk."
"You almost sound disappointed."
She simply stared at him.
"If you're worried that I've held anything back," he said, the words like a groan, "I haven't. I can assure you, your agents have everything."
"How?" Her voice was steel. "How could you choose to kill hundreds of people; wiping out my clan, exterminating the alienage, sacrificing the entire population of Wycome to red lyrium; and yet, feel so little dedication to your cause that you didn't even hesitate to tell everything you know the moment your enemies capture you? When I heard what you had done, I assumed you must have been a fanatic, a true believer. Yet you appear to have no loyalty whatsoever."
His eyes had a hollow cast when they met hers through the dark lighting. "Are you here to criticize my lack of faith, Lady Inquisitor?"
"I am here in an attempt to understand what manner of creature I have locked up. Did you enjoy it? Did you agree to carry out these plans as a means of gaining some twisted sense of pleasure? What reason could you possibly have to justify what you've done?"
"Is there anything I could say that would make what I've done right?" His question was empty, tone utterly flat. "Is there any reason I could give which would satisfy you?"
She pursed her lips. "Perhaps not," she admitted. "Since you have been so helpful thus far, answer me this: why did you give up your information so easily, Antoine?"
He sat up, meeting her eyes with an utterly empty gaze. This was a man with nothing left but resignation for the end. "Lady Inquisitor, I think we both know I will not leave this keep alive. On the impossible chance that I were to escape or that you would spare me, I would find no allies to return to. Corypheus and the Red Templars would kill me for the failure of being captured. Is it so surprising I did not wish to endure torture for those who would kill me, given the chance?"
"No," she said. "What is surprising is that anyone would give allegiance to such people in the first place."
He made a small grunt and turned away from her, though what meaning he meant to convey by the sound, Sylvanni couldn't guess. By any interpretation, it seemed the conversation was over. Much as she disliked allowing him to dictate the terms on which she spoke with him, if she was being honest, she didn't truly want to say anything more to him. Making a forced attempt to continue would only be petty. She wouldn't deign to give him even that much.
Looking at the huddled, dirty once-nobleman, Sylvanni realized Cullen was right. This miserable creature was barely worth the effort of hating him. He certainly didn't deserve the price she would pay if she destroyed herself in an attempt at retribution. She would give him nothing more of herself than the modicum of justice for her crimes. He was not even worthy of her loathing.
With that realization, she felt the last loop in her knotted thoughts pull free. What needed to be done fell into line with what she wished for herself, and her final decision fell into place. She knew where to go from here. She was ready.
"You will be brought before the judgment of the Inquisition tomorrow at dawn. I shall hear whatever defense you choose to make, and will mete out punishment for your crime as I see fit." She paused, but he gave no reaction, nothing to indicate he had even heard her. "I suggest you make what peace you can with your Maker."
He said nothing more to her, so she turned away, nodding to the lone guard as she made her way back up the stairs to Skyhold proper.