She might find herself more impressed with his Seeker's armor with almost two decades of wear on it. He'd felt it best not to wear it with so much in the world in question. At least, not until he'd arrived at the headquarters of the Inquisition to get some answers. There are enough tensions between mages and templars without painting a target on his back as he travels.

He can tell she's assessing him and possibly passing judgement on the armor. He certainly would. But it works for the time being and obscures his identity well enough. Unless this woman is well enough versed in Orlesian heraldry to recognize the silver falcon on a field of blue on the shield he carries with him. His mother's to blame for that. He himself takes the time to inspect her staff. It's seen action, Aleron's certain of it.

"Forgive me the eavesdropping. Did I hear you say you are with the Inquisition?"

He's not actually sorry for overhearing that, but it's the polite thing to say.