Constans was still busy trying to smother himself in his pillow when he heard someone moving in the room behind him. He froze, his tearful misery shriveling in the face of abject horror at been seen by other boys like this. Denerim already taught him more than he ever wanted to know about weakness; he knew with cold certainty that he would not let this place be the same. Rubbing his eyes and nose quickly, he swallowed and sat up on the bed, turning with a withering glare for the intruder. Although surprised when the source of the noises turned out to be a pretty, dark-haired girl much older than him rather than a boy, he refused to let her see his confusion, the puffy blue eyes fixed on her filled with mistrust and accusation.
He watched her speak, standing so imperiously like a lady of breeding, and for a long, awkward moment remained quiet.
"Did they send you to make me wear robes?" he finally said, drawing himself up with an identical air of nobility. It was difficult to tell if he was mocking her, or merely accustomed to behaving so.