Josephine surprised Evelyn. She had already begun asking about for the whereabouts of her Templar brothers.
"It is essential I know these things, Herald," she said, brushing aside Evelyn's thanks with a wave of her hand. "It is not entirely without motive. I must be prepared for anything that may be used against us."
Evelyn's stomach dropped. She knew sharing her secret was an eventuality, but she had hoped against hope that it would not come to pass. If she were the cause of the Inquisition failing. . . Evelyn cut off that thought. She had to tell Josephine.
"Our position is not secure," Josephine continued, "and we must build a positive reputation. Which brings me to what I wanted to ask you." Evelyn held her breath. Did she already know? Did Leliana? "Should we approach your family for their formal support of the Inquisition?"
Evelyn exhaled. Maker have mercy. Minaeve was still enthralled with the fade touched ram's horn Evelyn had dropped off for her. Still, she chose her words carefully. "Truth be told, that may close more doors then open them."
"Ah," Josephine tactfully said. "I see."
"When you find out about my brothers-"
"You will be the first to know."
"Thank you, Josephine."
Evelyn paused at the door and glanced at Minaeve. The mage did not appear to be paying attention. She was busy shaving a portion of the horn off into a clay container, but you never knew. Evelyn had learned the ability to look busy while soaking in everything that was being said in her father's hall while under the watchful gaze of her nurse. If a six year old could do it, anyone could.
"Is there something else I can do for you, Herald?" Josephine asked when Evelyn did not move.
Evelyn pressed her lips together. "Have you eaten?"
Josephine followed Evelyn's discreet look at the mage in the corner of the room before responding. "I could use a break. Give me a moment while I finish this letter to the Marquise de Melmont. The woman is a strong supporter of chantry reform. I am trying to convince her to support the Inquisition."
Evelyn nodded. "My. . ." She made a face. "Hut, then?"
Josephine laughed. "I do miss Val Royeaux. Truly, we cannot leave this place soon enough." She picked up her quill. "I would be delighted, Herald. In a half glass?"
"I'll see you then, Ambassador."
Evelyn left Josephine's office with a sigh. Mother Giselle glanced sharply at her, so Evelyn forced a smile on her face.
"Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon, Herald."
Evelyn smiled again and kept on walking, desperate to avoid the scrutiny of a member of the chantry. Her stomach growled; the sound reverberated through the chantry.
She dreaded the upcoming conversation with Josephine, but it was something that had to happen. Leliana was bound to find out about her departure from the chantry sooner or later, if she had not already, and it would be best if she confessed before it became public knowledge. She stopped at the doorway. Should Mother Giselle know? No. Talk to Josephine first. She would know how to deal with this.
Evelyn stopped at the tavern and grabbed a couple of meatrolls and a half jug of beer to bring back to her hovel. She took the time she had until Josephine arrived to wipe off the dirt and sweat she had accumulated during drills with her fireteams. She would go down there in the evening to ensure that they went through the exercises she had set out for them.
Josephine knocked at her door promptly.
"Come in," Evelyn said, motioning the ambassador inside. "Meatroll?"
"No, thank you, but a little glass of that ale wouldn't go amiss. Remind me to order some Antivan wine now that we have a trade route."
Evelyn poured a glass for both herself and her guest while insisting that Josephine take the only chair in the hut. Evelyn wandered over to the fireplace and stared at the flames.
"Am I right in assuming that this meeting has something to do with your family?" Josephine said after a few minutes of silence.
"Yes. Well, no," Evelyn frowned into her cup. "Not them. Me, more like." Evelyn looked up at the waiting ambassador. "I- I don't know how to say this."
Josephine put her glass down and leaned forward in her seat. "The beginning is usually best."
"Right." Evelyn took in a deep breath. "My family is devout, as you no doubt know. Us Trevelyans are synonymous with the chantry." She snorted. "Unless you're the heir, you're expected to join the chantry or the Templar order, whether you're suited to that life or not. It is a Trevelyan's duty. It is our honour. More importantly, it's the source of our power." Evelyn took a deep pull of her ale before continuing. "I was sent to the chantry late. I managed to put it off for as long as I could. Father doted on me, the only daughter, so it was easy enough to do. But when I showed no interest in marrying, nor a man willing to offer for a willful girl who spent more time in the forest than at home. . ." she trailed off. Those were happy times. She had been content to run in the woods and stalk prey. She had loved the nights spent sitting by the campfire, skinning fennec and telling stories late into the night. Life was simple in a camp. Evelyn closed her eyes.
"I was twenty-four when I finally went. Chantry life and I did not. . . It was very quiet, Josephine." She looked at the ambassador and tried to smile. "Too quiet. It was four years of tedium. And, well, uh, there were certain," she licked her bottom lip and winced, "pleasures I was not happy in giving up."
"Ah," nodded Josephine. "And these would be more of the. . . physical variety?"
Evelyn sighed. "Exactly. Well, I learned early on that there were quite a few people who felt the same way I did about the restrictions. You just had to be discreet. A lot went on behind closed doors."
"No doubt."
"Well, I- I fucked up, to be frank. I began meeting this Templar, and, well," Evelyn let out a breath slowly. Just tell her. Just let it out. Get it over with. "I forgot to take my daily draught that day and I became pregnant. As you can well imagine, a pregnant chantry sister is not something. . . Well, I could not stay." Evelyn took another drink from her glass and avoided looking at Josephine.
"I had no idea!" Josephine exclaimed. Evelyn did not know whether to laugh or frown at the dismay in the ambassador's voice. The dismay was clearly not aimed at Evelyn, but at Josephine herself. Evelyn wondered how many inquiries Josephine had made about her and her family.
"That was the point. My family paid off the revered mother by donating a large sum to repair the chantry foundation, and I retreated to the country estate for a year to 'reflect'. It was all very hush hush. It was decided that the best thing to do was to make an honest woman out of me and marry me off. My cousin, Emmerson, offered, and it was arranged. Then they sent us off here to represent the family at the conclave, to help me get back out into the world as a 'proper' woman." And now he's dead. She left that unsaid.
She did not have to say anything. Josephine picked up on it immediately. "I am sorry, Herald. I did not know you lost-"
"How could you? Please. It's not something I enjoy thinking about." You'll have to face it someday, Evelyn. "At any rate, I thought you should know. In case it comes out that the Herald of Andraste is a whore." Having fun was one thing, but being caught was quite another.
Josephine opened her mouth, thought better of what she was about to say and closed it. She thought for a moment. "I see. Yes. Forgive me, but I have to ask, the child. . ."
Evelyn frowned at her mug. "I don't know." She finished her glass, reached for the jug, but stopped herself. No. She could not wallow in self-pity. She still had responsibilities today. Later. "I never got to look at it. Don't even know if it was a girl or a boy. They took it away."
