A reasonable question, despite the unsubtle goad. Solas considers the room, and steps aside, out of the way of potential traffic— now they both have their backs to their respective walls, so to speak.

"I would prefer to stand," He says, shortly, folding his hands behind his back in a show of nonchalance, face kept carefully impassive. The Bull cannot know what magics he does or does not possess, and confidence will only preserve any illusion of strength, "Tell me, how long has it been?"