[Val's mystification ends the moment the pitcher is placed on the table. He knows what this is. And when she says those blessed words aloud, it only confirms what he knows.]
Mademoiselle.
[Never has the title been spoken so rapturously, at least not within these four tavern walls. Val grips the edges of the table as if he might otherwise collapse.]
You must not toy with me, mademoiselle. My heart, my affections, my devotion to a woman who can produce an Antivan wine in the barren wasteland of Skyhold--these are not to be bandied about, nor treated lightly.
no subject
Mademoiselle.
[Never has the title been spoken so rapturously, at least not within these four tavern walls. Val grips the edges of the table as if he might otherwise collapse.]
You must not toy with me, mademoiselle. My heart, my affections, my devotion to a woman who can produce an Antivan wine in the barren wasteland of Skyhold--these are not to be bandied about, nor treated lightly.
[And again--]
Oh, mademoiselle. An Antivan wine?