It's -- it's so absurd. All of this. That he's here at all, that he's breaking down like a child in the middle of the tavern, that -- after all this -- the simple gesture of Ysa offering him a cloth to wipe his face should nearly make him start crying again.

Alistair manages to get the next noise twisted into a choked laugh. He accepts the cloth. Rubs at his eyes as he mumbles, "Thank you."