Nathaniel waited with barely restrained impatience while he and Gwyneth were welcomed back to court. He didn't remember court welcomes being this tedious when he was young. Of course, he hadn't been a Warden-Constable back then, or personal representative of the Bann of Amaranthine proper. He did remember how to hold his face completely neutral, not a single twitch to give away how bored he was by the official nonsense.
Gwyn had learned it in the Circle, hiding her true thoughts from Templars. His training had taken place at the side of a father who was never happy with his eldest son. Nathaniel spared a thought for Thomas, lost in the Blight, whom Rendon Howe had favored over him. After so many years, he didn't think of him as Papa anymore.
The Bannorn was gathered to see their heroine return, gossips whispering to each other as she approached the king for a welcoming kiss on the cheek, then the queen for the same. The nattering hens and what was left of Anora's supporters were searching for any sign that there was more than professional affection between Alistair and Gwyn, not that they would ever see it. Both of them had taken Elissa's coaching to heart, and their leadership presented a united front. King, queen, and Chancellor were the image of harmony, working together to restore a kingdom that was still struggling four years after Urthemiel's death.
Yet, even working with them as he had, because he carried the burden of the name Howe, whispers followed him, too. Son of a traitor, child of a monster. The specter of Highever followed him in their eyes no matter what he did. Thankfully, Elissa, the one who had the most reason to hate him, just… didn't. Fergus was polite, but withdrawn, which was understandable, but Elissa would welcome him with smiles, the traditional kiss on the cheek, and real pleasure in her voice.
That's how everything had started. The tiny little moments between two people who had grown up together and still remained friendly despite the pain Rendon had inflicted on both of them had grown to quiet admiration of each other, then affection. Nathaniel had admitted that at first he had been indignant about Alistair keeping Gwyn as his mistress while marrying Elissa to secure the throne. When Elissa had explained that she was okay with it, and even encouraged it, a spark of hope had lit.
It wasn't until he had that reassurance that they had given in to the temptation of each other. Gwyneth had figured it out immediately, and had been happy for them. Alistair had taken him aside and told him if Elissa ever came to him crying because Nathaniel had made her unhappy, he was in for a royal thrashing. For once, the jovial king hadn't been making a pun, no trace of humor to be found on his face.
"Warden-Constable Nathaniel, you are welcome at court." Alistair's greeting pulled him from his mental wanderings. Striding up to the dais, Nathaniel bowed to his king.
"Your Majesty, always a pleasure." Turning to Elissa, he took the hand she offered, bowing over it and placing a kiss on her signet ring, as protocol dictated "Your Majesty, you look well."
"Thank you, Warden-Constable." Elissa gave him a warm, welcoming smile. "Our daughter is finally sleeping through the night in her nursery, which most certainly helps."
Giving her a private wink, Nathaniel straightened. "It's been a long trip with the Lady Chancellor. If I may retire, Your Majesties?"
"Of course. You're in the same rooms as usual." Elissa's eyes sparkled, their bright sky blue locking with his storm grey. Most likely, Elissa would be running through the warren of passages that ran through the walls of the royal wing to greet him after 'retiring' for the evening.
The crowd parted before him as he stepped down from the dais. Official welcomes done, Alistair and Elissa remained standing on the platform, already deep in discussion with Gwyneth. Nathaniel strode forward, ignoring the avaricious looks, suspicion, and sneers. He knew he was an outsider amongst them. He hadn't fought Gwyneth for Amaranthine or demanded she name him Bann. He hadn't taken his sister to task for marrying beneath herself. If anyone bothered to ask his opinion, he would tell them that Albert was a good man, better than Rendon Howe had been, no matter that he was a shopkeep.
Passing one group of noble ladies, one spoke loudly, purposely, so he would hear, "I hear that Fergus Cousland is welcoming his new bride to Highever next month. Caterina of Rialto. I understand he was very reluctant to wed again, doubly so to an Antivan, after what happened to poor Lady Oriana. Such a tragedy. Don't you agree, Warden-Constable Howe?"
Nathaniel stopped abruptly, an island of silence forming around them. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Lady Jolene. "What happened at Highever was a tragedy, madam. My father was a monster, and I will be the first to admit it. I am not him, and I wish I had been in Ferelden to stop his and the Traitor's madness. Remind me, Lady Jolene, wasn't your father's army with the Traitor during Ostagar? Should we judge you a traitor as well?"
Leaving Lady Jolene looking like she had swallowed a slug, he marched out of the hall. He would not let it get to him. He was right where he belonged, helping Ferelden as Warden-Constable, and helping Elissa as close friend and lover.
He was no outsider.