The question means she has to stop and think, squinting into the nothing over his shoulder as she tries to recall, or guess, or wonder if she ever knew at all,
“I think,” she decides, finally, “somewhere in her fifties. I don't think she's much off my uncle's age, and he's— Maker, nearly sixty now, I think? I don't know if I know her age precisely, although I don't know if she knows it precisely, either.” With how much precision such things are measured can vary, strata to strata, in Thedas; she doesn't know enough, she realises, about other Coupes and the woman's background before the Chantry to be sure if they would or wouldn't have strictly recorded that sort of information.
This does seem like a safer derail than we all might die, really.
“Before anything else I knew her as a miserable interfering bitch who'd inexplicably taken it into her head to elbow her way into my life and tell me what to do with it, first. When we were still an Inquisition outpost, she'd come here for some Chantry mothers, or something, and whenever I turned around there she was, having an opinion about everything.” Wow doesn't sound like anyone she knows, don't worry about it. “I didn't know she'd known my uncle. I didn't know there was anything to know about, and then— he was presumed dead for years. He was a mage of the White Spire, and when it was annulled, there wasn't any reason to think he hadn't been killed with the rest. He never turned up, not for years, but when I got word of him being alive, and when I mentioned as much to her, it wasn't new information. She knew already. Some other way. I think it was the time travel.”
no subject
“I think,” she decides, finally, “somewhere in her fifties. I don't think she's much off my uncle's age, and he's— Maker, nearly sixty now, I think? I don't know if I know her age precisely, although I don't know if she knows it precisely, either.” With how much precision such things are measured can vary, strata to strata, in Thedas; she doesn't know enough, she realises, about other Coupes and the woman's background before the Chantry to be sure if they would or wouldn't have strictly recorded that sort of information.
This does seem like a safer derail than we all might die, really.
“Before anything else I knew her as a miserable interfering bitch who'd inexplicably taken it into her head to elbow her way into my life and tell me what to do with it, first. When we were still an Inquisition outpost, she'd come here for some Chantry mothers, or something, and whenever I turned around there she was, having an opinion about everything.” Wow doesn't sound like anyone she knows, don't worry about it. “I didn't know she'd known my uncle. I didn't know there was anything to know about, and then— he was presumed dead for years. He was a mage of the White Spire, and when it was annulled, there wasn't any reason to think he hadn't been killed with the rest. He never turned up, not for years, but when I got word of him being alive, and when I mentioned as much to her, it wasn't new information. She knew already. Some other way. I think it was the time travel.”