The wounded look on Cullen's face haunted Sylvanni all the way back to her quarters, all through the time it took her to change out of her armor, and for the walk back down to the war room. It wasn't fair to him, the way she'd acted, and she knew that. But she wasn't ready to let him back in yet.

She couldn't talk to him about what has happened, about what she was feeling after all of this. She'd been afraid of this on the road and she'd known as soon as she saw him. She was forcing her way through this by keeping an iron clasp on her emotions.

He would break her defenses, send cracks through her mask. He always did, and she loved him for that, but she needed this mask for now. She still didn't know what to do with Antoine, despite having the entire trip back to think about it. She couldn't face Cullen until this was all over, one way or another.

Leliana and Josephine were already chatting quietly in the war room when she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Both paused their conversation to nod respectfully toward her as she entered.

"I was pleased to hear of your safe return, Inquisitor," Leliana said. "And congratulations on your successful acquisition."

"Inquisitor, I must convey my deepest apologies," Josephine said, clasping her hands together. "I feel so foolish to have suggested we reach out to Antoine. I had no idea of his true character, and I cannot help but feel that your loss is my fault."

Sylvanni held up a hand. "Don't blame yourself, Josephine. It was no one's fault but Antoine's, and I intend to see him pay for it."

The door's hinges squeaked behind her as Cullen entered the room. She turned briefly to watch him walk up to the table, a sheaf of papers under his arm. His expression was guarded as he nodded to her, and she forced herself to remember that this what she needed, for now.

There was a small pause as Leliana and Josephine - both of them far too experienced at reading people to miss the tension between their Commander and Inquisitor - assessed the situation. They were both as tactful as they were astute, and there was nary a reaction from either, but Sylvanni had no doubt that they'd figured it that something was going on.

"Have you decided how, exactly, you are planning to exact that payment from him, my lady?" Leliana asked.

Dozens of possibilities fluttered to life in Sylvanni's mind, the same thoughts she'd had trouble sorting through since she'd captured him cluttering her decision. She shook her head, as much an answer to Leliana as an attempt to clear the thoughts away. "Not yet," she admitted, "though for now, I think he will be fine sitting in that cell for a while." A thought occurred to her. "Leliana, you believe he may have had ties to the Red Templars or Venatori?"

"I did, Lady Inquisitor. My agents found traces of red lyrium in the wells around the city."

Sylvanni nodded thoughtfully. "See if your agents can get any intel out of him. Let them know they are authorized to use whatever methods they see fit, save killing him, to get answers."

Leliana nodded, but Cullen frowned. She steeled herself against his disapproval, telling herself that this was just, that Antoine deserved it, and it was a tactically sound decision. What right did he have to disapprove of her choice? She was the Inquisitor, and it was her call to make.

She found it difficult to concentrate through the rest of the reports, mind turning over the issue of Antoine and how she would reconcile with Cullen over this. Her judgment would come first, her duty to her clan and their memory, and then she could deal with her commander.

Now, if only she could figure out what to actually do with Antoine.