“Hawke!” she exclaims while raising her glass to the air. Patrons next to her follow suit as a toast to The Champion of Kirkwall.

Isabela smiles when Hawke’s cheeks turn a bright pink color. For all of the fame and notoriety that comes with the title, Hawke is still so shy when it comes to attention.

Isabela, on the other hand, loves the attention and finds it particularly endearing that her dear Champion gets this way.

She’s not really sure what this is going on between them, but Isabela likes it. She won’t admit to that, but she’s never visited the same bed so often as she does either Hawke.

At this point, she can’t even lie to herself and say that it’s just physical attraction.

She pats the seat next to her at the bar, leaning into Hawke immediately.

“No need for rosey cheeks, sweetness,” she smirks, “though, I can’t say I don’t enjoy it. For completely personal and selfish reasons, in case you were wondering.”