Mona stared at him evenly, but anything he had to say was about as interesting to her as the buzzing of a gnat. Perhaps he had every right to be indignant and angry -- it had happened before, at other past ceremonies -- but such emotions were misplaced and ignorant. He thought he knew about war, about leadership, but his experiences barely scratched the surface of what she and the others had sacrificed to ensure the safety of Ferelden over the years. It was easy to criticize, and harder to actually make the choices that would define someone else's fate. No war had ever been won without a cost, especially not one against this enemy. For a man who claimed to be a hardened veteran, it was amazing that he couldn't see the bigger picture here.
She said nothing, though, and hoped Alistair had been right to rescue him. Either Conlan would learn in time to take on the burden of loss and live with it to fight another day, or he would perish from his foolish desire to save every life. The ceremony would not be put on hold for his outburst, though. Aedan and Ruddy actually seemed a little amused that he had even bothered to shout anything. He had nerve, to be sure, but he was hardly using it to any effect. Alistair, always more vulnerable to criticism, seemed troubled, but proceeded to pass the chalice on to the next recruit.