Of all the things Solas could have told her, anything she was prepared to handle, this was... Beyond what she could have divined. Anger melts into genuine, profound confusion, not unlike what she sees in Solas. This was no trick of the Dread Wolf, of that she was certain. If he meant to trick her, surely he would pick a different method than... Telling her that the entire events of Minrathous had not happened. He was a far more subtle liar than that.

So who's trick was it?

Her mind goes to the Tavern Keeper. Maybe she should have been more forceful with them.

Her hands go to her waist, and she takes a deep, steadying breath. Explain everything. She can do that, at least. They'll figure this puzzle out, together. She won't let it be any other way

"Elgar'nan lies dead, killed by Rook, with the lyrium dagger." That was the most important point, of course. It still tastes odd in her mouth, to rattle off the name of her god as an enemy, but she will acquire the taste in time. "His archdemon had been slayed by your hand." Or his maw, to be more precise. Though again, it struck her how the wounds of that lengthy fight across Minrathous seemed miraculously healed, even for his powers.

"Then, the Fade began to..." She trails off, makes a vague hand gesture. Break? Unravel? Disintegrate? Solas would understand. "And Rook held counsel with you." It was certainly one way to put it. "I... offered my thoughts as well. And--" Her lips twitch. "Morrigan, her wisdom. Then..." She glanced off, suddenly hesitant.

"There was one other. A sliver. But whole enough to give you her own insight. One you heeded unlike any other."

Jealousy. It's an ugly emotion. It feels ugly on her skin, like clothing she would never wear. But it lays over her anyway.