"I hope your staff is prepared to meet my mother's standards."

This stupid boy could beggar all of Orlais with his near-sighted capacity for self-indulgence. Atticus can barely stomach it, and so decides not to. For the moment.

"Our staff? ...Oh," he begins, his thin eyebrows climbing quite high on his forehead. He does a good job of performing 'mild, chagrined shock' even though no part of him feels it. "Oh, I thought you had been informed about the living arrangements of my apprentices." His eyebrows draw together into a deep furrow and he shakes his head, murmuring another, troubled, 'oh dear' under his breath.