"Shall I put on a thick Orlais accent, and talk about my own grandness?" She snorts, not faltering in meeting her look. Lifting her cup to her lips, then dropping her eyes to look into the wine. Debating the truth of it -

"The truth, is I suppose, I did what I could and I didn't care for the titles, the names, the palaces. I'll let those that come after me decide if I truly helped. But..." Because the simplest of it was: "They were my people, and I loved them. I was honoured to be their Rani, their Lakshmi - and nothing else mattered to me apart from that."