"I don't know," she says again, with no heat in it, for all that she is frustrated by her own lack of knowledge. "I have eyes and ears all over Thedas, and I cannot determine my own intentions or wants. It is pathetic, no?"

But then there is this tiny, fragile thing in her arms, and she marvels at it. To think that they all joined the world in such a way, that once she and Zevran were so tiny and unprotected, and someone had loved them well enough to keep them alive. The terrors came later, but first they had been loved, and they had trusted. Holding him in one arm, she disentangles her free hand from his grasp to tilts the shiny broach at her chest so it catches the light and grabs at his attention, maybe, though she looks to Zevran as she listens.

"Do you feel Mia does have some claim over you?" And, after a moment of considation, she angles her head. "It would be foolish to suggest you find love with both of them together, I assume."