Control is the name of the game in such situations, and when Teren meets the man's eyes but finds him staring right through her, it rattles her. Abruptly the room's occupants have all turned to stare silently at them, and Teren slows, looking around at attentive crowd with rising dread.
When she diverts her gaze back to Atticus, he's in shadow; the hall has shrunk and lost most of its light. Hard stone walls, the smell of piss and mildew, and strong hands grab her arms from behind, holding her there.
She knows it's Alistair because the rest of the Wardens are here too, replacing the crowd, staring, sneering. Behind the stranger, flanking him on either side, are Ayse and Benevenuta Thevenet, the latter with a knowing smirk.

Whatever she's been trying to hide, everyone's aware of it now, and they're hungry for payback. Teren's awful dress has begun to feel more restrictive, and she knows there's no running or fighting in it. She looks imploringly back to the stranger, momentarily too choked by fear to answer or even understand what he's asking for.