CHAPTER ONE

Kayla Amell gazed at her reflection in the vanity mirror, brushing her short, dark hair. Her eyes moved to look at the second image before her. She watched as Alistair dressed, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning his trousers.

"Stay with me tonight," she asked him.

Alistair looked at her. "You know I can't."

"Our affair is an open secret, Alistair. It has been since before you were crowned King."

"Yes, well, I promised Anora that I wouldn't flaunt our relationship," he said.

"You don't love her."

Alistair stood behind Kayla, placing his strong hands on her shoulders. "You're right, I don't. Our marriage was for political reasons; sanctioned by you if I remember correctly."

"Because you would not marry me," Kayla replied bitterly.

"Darling, we have gone over this before. You are a mage. I couldn't marry you, even though I wanted to. Fereldans would just not accept that."

"Perhaps I should have stayed Warden-Commander of Ferelden. It would have made everything easier."

Alistair kneeled beside her. She turned to face him. "I didn't want you to be Warden-Commander. I wanted you here with me at court. I need you by my side."

"Just not as your wife," she replied.

Alistair smiled. "I love you, Kayla. I always have and I always will. Now, I need to be at a meeting with Anora. I will be expecting you there as well, as my sage counsel." He kissed her, then rose. "I'll see you in the Throne Room in fifteen minutes," he commanded, then left.

Kayla heard the door close. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, gazing into her sapphire-blue eyes, trying to determine who the woman was within. Her eyes glanced at the bed, the sheets still crumpled from their love-making. She looked back at her reflection. Before, when she gazed at herself, she had seen a confident woman; a Grey Warden and, most recently, the Hero of Ferelden. Lately, however, when she looked at herself all she saw was the King's whore.

Alistair would come and go as he pleased, making love to her whenever his schedule permitted, no longer taking her feelings into consideration. He had changed. Becoming King had hardened him; made him more demanding; more rigid. He wasn't the easy-going young Templar she had first met. He had taken over the reins of leadership with great success. Guided by Eamon, Anora and herself, Alistair learned his duties quickly and had become a successful, powerful leader. Ferelden was regaining its wealth and prominence in the world faster than its neighbors had imagined. When he had been crowned King by the Landsmeet, he had been a bit intimidated by the task before him. He attempted to break-off their relationship. It was she who convinced Alistair that, as King, he could do whatever he wished. He had taken that edict to heart and did whatever he pleased, not caring if it hurt someone in the process. Yes, Alistair had changed greatly; however, Kayla wasn't sure it was always for the better.

She let out a heavy sigh. Her King had commanded her presence in the Throne Room. It was unlikely that she would need to say anything. Alistair just loved to have a mage standing behind him more for intimidation purposes than anything else. Over the last several months, he was seeking her counsel less and less and relying on his wife's more and more. Kayla wondered if Alistair ever got a thrill of having his wife sitting on his left and his lover standing on his right. He did seem to get some perverse pleasure in presenting the two of them together at his side. This had never bothered her before, but now she was becoming uncomfortable with the entire arrangement. She rose and dressed in her most impressive robes, placing the silver circlet with the large sapphire stone surrounded by intricate scrollwork on her head. She then made her way to the Throne Room.

As Kayla walked, she heard the whispering and gossiping from the servants and guards in the palace. As a mage, she had become accustomed to being called names, many vicious and spoken with great vitriol. But becoming the Hero of Ferelden had changed all that, for a little while. She was treated with great respect by all. But soon, the issues of the Blight faded into memory and she was thought of as just a mage once more. No not just a mage, the King's Mage, a title which was not as flattering as it sounded. The only place where she ever felt she had truly belonged was with the Grey Wardens at Vigil's Keep. When there she had been eager to return to Court, but found that the palace was not the same as it was before her departure. She now wondered why she was so anxious to leave the bosom of the only place that had accepted her.

Kayla arrived and took her place in the processional. This protocol was new since she had returned from The Vigil. Alistair had never been one to stand on ceremony. It must have been implemented by Anora. Kayla wondered if it had been devised for her benefit, so she would know her place in the Court; several steps behind the King and Queen. Once everyone was in place, the doors to the Throne Room swung open and heralds trumpeted the arrival of the King and Queen. Alistair and Anora walked slowly into the room and up to the dais where their thrones stood. Their entourage took their accustomed places. Kayla's place was still at the right hand of the King. At least that hadn't changed while she was away.

The audience was with one of the foreign ambassadors that Anora kept inviting to the palace. After the formal introductions, Kayla stopped listening and just played her part; a beautiful, cold, intimidating mage at the side of the King of Ferelden, just waiting for his command to turn all to ash. As she thought about her role, she realized with a start that there was not much difference between her and a Mabari. Both would be used by the King for intimidation and attack. And then she saw herself as a faithful dog at the beck and call of the King; always loyal; always available; always ready; always wanting his praise. Was that how Alistair truly saw her? She suddenly felt the room closing in on her. She had this desire to bolt; to run out of the room. But she did not. With all of her willpower, Kayla stood where she was and didn't move; continuing to look cold and beautiful and unpredictable. After an agonizing time, the audience finally came to an end. The King and Queen rose and their court fell into place behind them. The processional exited the Throne Room. Once out of sight of their guests, Anora and Alistair shared a private moment in a secluded hallway. Kayla watched them. To her eyes, it appeared a very loving scene. Alistair whispered something into Anora's ear which made her smile and giggle. He then leaned in to kiss her gently, lovingly.

"They are trying to have a child," Eamon Guerrin said. The former Arl of Redcliffe and now Prime Counselor to the King had joined Kayla. He seemed pleased with the turn of events. "Ferelden needs an heir."

"Yes," Kayla replied quietly.

"A child of Theirin and Mac Tir blood will surely secure the Throne of Ferelden and make the nation even stronger."

"Will you excuse me, Eamon?" Kayla said and walked swiftly away.

Kayla returned to her room and plopped into her vanity chair, bringing her hands up to her face. She could not stop the tears that began to flow freely down her cheeks. All of the feelings she had pent-up this evening were released. She wept for a few minutes, then gazed at her reflection. All of the thoughts of self-loathing she had came forth. She was the King's whore; the King's faithful Mabari; nothing but a joke. In trying to love Alistair she had lost all self-respect. She had ceased to be Kayla and had become a bauble for the King's amusement. If she did not take action now, she would remain a bauble; a possession; and be lost forever.

Kayla wiped the tears from her cheeks and began to pack. She would take only those things she had brought to the palace. The items Alistair had bought for her she would leave behind. She changed into traveling gear, then retrieve paper and quill. She wrote a very brief note to the King. In reading it, the letter was more of a resignation of her position than the ending of a relationship. And, she realized with a start, her relationship with Alistair had truly ended months ago, when she took the job at Vigil's Keep. Nothing had been the same since her return. She addressed the letter to King Alistair and placed the rose he had given her so long ago next to it, propped against the mirror on her vanity. She made sure it would be the first thing Alistair would see when he came to her room. And she knew that later that night, he would come to her room. She threw some gold coins next to the letter; payment for the horse she was taking. She did not want to be accused of thievery. She waited about an hour when the palace would be quiet. No one would care if she was wandering around or even if she was leaving. They would assume she was on some errand for the King. But her days of serving the King were over. From this moment forward, she would serve only one master; herself.

Kayla silently exited her room and walked down the hall to the back servants' entrance of the palace. She went to the stables and saddled a horse, then quietly walked the animal out of the courtyard and into the street. She attached her pack to the saddle and mounted the horse, then left Denerim and turned towards the Imperial Highway. She had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she was going forward. She would never look back.