"I suppose it isn't meaningless that you raised the Queen of Ferelden."

Loghain scoffs, though not dismissively--at least, not of Teren, and certainly not of Anora. "The credit is hers," he replies without delay, "for succeeding in spite of me." He doesn't say the words, but it's evident in the subdued warmth in his eyes that yes, he's quite proud of his daughter.

The rain has yet to let up, and beside him, Sooty has begun to shift restlessly, her ears swept back in a gentle reprimand to her master's loitering. Loghain pats a gloved hand against her broad neck. "I should take my girl back to the stables," he says of the mare fondly.