"Another Trevelyan. I see. Perhaps it's not so surprising they've a taste for nobility."

It's said to herself as much as the woman before her, the ways of the Capitol continuing to be something to evaluate. One Inquisitor dead, then another introduced. Done quickly on purpose, before any of them can fully find their feet under one banner in the arena, perhaps? But, if nothing else, she has slowly come to terms with the idea these were, in fact, actual Inquisitors and not some product of their captors. But Cassandra still takes her time, giving the woman an evaluating look as she takes her hand. Not near as hostile as the first time they had met in Haven, but far from any trusting gaze Adella may have grown accustomed to.

"I trust you have spoken with the others."