The Queen of Ferelden is a shrewd and manipulative woman.
Behind those mahogany eyes is a world of scheming and tactics.
No, no one ever made a move without our dear Queen predicting it first.
Now, before you have me arrested for slander against our beloved Queen, allow me to explain-
I admire her, do not get me wrong.
She's beautiful and just as deadly. Wickedly clever. Feisty - as I prefer my women, I might add.
...not to mention a more than capable lover.
But did she love me?
No. I do not believe so. Not in the way you might imagine.
Does she love him?
Not in the way he loves her, my friend.
Love - not with the adoration he and the rest of Ferelden shower upon her, no.
A better question is whether our Queen-Warden-Commander is capable of this emotion.
She cares for him, I believe.
The King believes his wife loves him - that is what matters, no?
But if you believe that royal bastard (pardon the inside joke) is the one truly ruling Ferelden you are a fool.
Before you have me hanged for treason against your dear and most honorable leader, remember that I knew them before - when he was a reluctant heir and she his puppetmaster.
I, however, was no such fool.
All the nights in her tent, did he think we were playing Wicked Grace?
Fool. But ignorance is bliss, I've found.
Only a man such as him could believe a woman such as her could belong to only one person.
Love.
Impossible.
She belongs to him as much as she belonged to me.
As much as she belongs to the Wardens.
To Ferelden.
Although, I do believe she loved each of us in her own way.
Leliana for her stories and Oghren for his bawdy japes.
Sten for his stern severity and Alistair for his bumbling innocence.
Wynne for her mothering and me for- well, need I elaborate?
Even Morrigan, even after she ran off with that baby of the King's tainted blood.
Quite amusing, really. A royal bastard breeds another.
Not uncommon in Antiva, I might add.
I digress.
Of course, I considered her offer, not to go.
An Antivan elven assassin as the queen's secretive advisor, perhaps something more?
You cannot imagine the scandal!
Regardless, I stayed close for a time, until they began speaking of heirs.
Whether it were possible, impossible, unreasonable, necessary - they just went on and on until my head spun with visions of plump, golden-haired Warden-spawned princes and princesas running around the palace.
No, I did not care to stay and find out.
I had my own plans ahead of me.
She almost indulged me once more, before I left.
A blonde and tan-skinned child, could you imagine the surprise on the King's face if that were so?
Ha! I jest.
Had she accepted my final proposition, I'm afraid I might have considered staying.
No, it is better this way.
The Queen is where she always belonged, as am I.