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She still won't go in there. He's noticed that. More and more, he has been asked to meet her in the War Room, or the battlements, or even the tavern.
But she won't visit Dorian in the library. Not when she can avoid it.
It's that damned mural.
It's beautiful, pristine, a worthy tribute to the adventures of the Inquisition - but it is also a stark reminder that he was there, once. Each brushstroke on the wall, each notation he made upon a piece of parchment left upon his desk, every book he ever read in Skyhold - it's all still there, unmoved, untouched.
No one has dared to ask her, of course, whether it can be moved.. She still frowns at the mention of his name, her mouth pulling downwards when she thinks no one is watching.
Sometimes, in the dead of night, he has stayed up, reading, and heard soft footsteps below. Sometimes, he's peered over the banister, seen her tracing the line of his desk with her fingers. Sometimes, she curls up in his chair, reading one of the books he left behind. Often, the spirit joins her, and they hold hands, missing him together.
It's hard to read, after that, knowing that the two of them are mourning just below.
'Have you heard from him?' she asks, one day, as Dorian sits quietly, listening. There's a pause before Cole answers. 'I thought I did,' he says, seriously. 'But then I forgot, so now I don't know.' He hears a sigh from her, and the sharp intake of breath that follows.
'He did love you,' Cole says gently, and she takes another hitched breath.
'That doesn't help, Cole.'
'Sorry.'