"How is Trevelyan?" Dorian parroted, it was a question that was quite general and left a lot to unpack, to be honest, "physically he's not in too dissimilar a state as you, the anchor was threatening to kill him and Solas...ah...relieved him of that burden. He seems to be taking it well enough, but that's his way...deep-dyed, always with the humor and the brave front that he wears like full body armor, impervious. You can tell he's guarded, he has to be, but there's something there when he thinks no one is watching him anyway...but that's to be expected...I honestly don't know anything about the private carnage."

Dorian picks up his own coffee turning the mug in his hands, it's hot against his palms, he doesn't mind it though, it's comforting.

"Me?" Dorian now finally addressing the second part of Cyril's question, this is where he takes a sip of his own coffee, a bit of a distraction before looking up at the Inquisitor and offering him a lopsided grin, "no flies on me, Inquisitor, as usual. You knew though, it was the thing you were reluctant to talk about when last we spoke I suspect, the assassination of Lord Halward Pavus?"

Dorian took another sip of coffee, letting the conversation stew from there for a few moments if either of them had anything to contribute. It was done, really.