They didn't have to fight much. The king's group finished most of the darkspawn and what they left was killed by Trian and his men. The princess and her escort had to draw weapons only once, when they mistakenly turned left into a dead end tunnel when they should have chosen the path leading straight forward. They found a darkspawn camp of a dozen enemies and it felt good to bathe their swords in the monsters' blood. They fought quickly and efficiently, only one of the scouts had to retreat with a somewhat serious injury. Sigra was lightly hurt on her forearm but it didn't unnerve her at all. Unlike the previous occasion, she felt quite confident, and it also helped a lot to fight back to back with Gorim. She trusted him more than ever and the touch of his armor on hers made her feel dizzy for a minute.

Frandlin Ivo killed three genlocks all by himself. The two scouts' bows dealt with another two. Sigra also overwhelmed two of them, and helped Gorim in finishing another one. The knight fought and killed the remaining four monsters. He couldn't help noticing the envy in Frandlin's eyes but he didn't care. He smiled at his lady when she squeezed his hand for a short moment.

'Congratulations, Gorim. I always knew you are the best.'

'Thank you, my lady. You do me proud as well.'

'We should go.' Frandlin's tone made it clear that they have been looking at each other a moment too long. Gorim knit the brows and turned to the man.

'We will leave when my lady says so' he said firmly. It felt good to see Frandlin back away from them.

'I meant no disrespect, ser Gorim. I'm sure Lady Aeducan also wants to take her leave.'

'It is not your place to decide.'

'It's all right, Gorim' Sigra said. Her voice was firm and clear, nobody could have felt the tension in it. 'We may go.'

They didn't speak any more until they found the secret door carved into the stone. Sigra opened it with her signet ring and she almost felt disappointed that there was no sign of more darkspawn in the area.

'We should be the first to arrive here' she whispered to Gorim. 'In fact, we should be the only ones who passed that door.'

'Maybe it kept the darkspawn out as well' Gorim said.

'I doubt it. Let's move carefully.'

'Commander!' The scout ran back to them. 'I found the darkspawn. All dead. Their bodies are still warm and the blood hasn't dried either.'

'So somebody did forerun us' Sigra noted. 'I wonder if it's friend or foe. Let's look for the shield and we may find it out as well.'

Frandlin Ivo and the scout changed glances. Gorim and her lady both noticed it. Sigra shrugged her shoulder. It was the proof she feared but now it didn't seem so bad at all. She only wished to go on with the plan and look in Bhelen's amazed eyes.

It wasn't hard to find the Shield of Aeducan, hidden in an ancient vault, though the artifact itself disappointed the group. It wasn't at all shiny, beautiful or even unique, and even if it held some magic, it couldn't be much.

'It's still the symbol of a great past, once wielded by a Paragon' Gorim said. 'Shall we move on, my lady? I fear we might be ambushed now that we have the shield.'

'Darkspawn don't ambush' Sigra replied a bit louder than necessary. She wanted to make sure Frandlin heard her. 'It's more likely they are just as dead as those other ones outside. Let's go, men!'

They left the vault in silence – only to find Trian and his men waiting outside. Sigra's face grew pale. So much depended now on how they played their role. Harrowmont wasn't present, but she couldn't guess why. She hoped he didn't get injured.

'And so my sister claims glory to herself once more!' Trian shouted. His voice seemed to be more irritating than ever and Sigra felt a sudden urge to fall back to the vault. The prince was indeed angry with her; his behavior was clearly not only a pose. Gorim took a step towards her and she was grateful for not lacking his ever calming presence.

'What can I do for you, my brother?' she asked. Her tone didn't leave place to politeness or courtesy.

'You may lay down your weapons! I know about your plan to murder me and take the throne for yourself. You are quite welcome to try it, if you want to die!'

Sigra looked back to her men with slight confusion. Something just came to her mind that they clean forgot the day before: what if one of Bhelen's lackeys happens to kill her or Trian?

'Very well then' she said. 'You always wanted to fight me, Trian. Let's do it, face to face, but we should leave our men out of it.'

'Afraid for the life of your little second?' Trian spit. 'Bring it on, if you dare, all of you! But if it pleases you, my sister, I shall kill you with my own hand!'

He charged without further warning, shouting, having his escort right behind him.

'Guard yourselves!' Sigra yelled and drew her swords. She took some dance-like steps behind, luring Trian out. No one else followed her: the escorts fought among themselves. She saw Gorim attacking only with his shield, knocking out his opponent instead of killing him, but then she had to turn away and face her brother.

'Frandlin Ivo is most likely a traitor' she whispered to him when no one looked and she was relieved to see her brother nod.

'I'll have his head.' Trian attacked without a warning.

Sigra moved to the side. They agreed to fake a fight for a few minutes before she collapses. She felt like dancing, but only for a minute. It was similar to the trainings with Gorim but she didn't feel the same trust. Trian wasn't as good a fighter as her second and he counterweighted his lack of skill by pure aggression. Sigra didn't enjoy fighting him at all. Suddenly she wanted to finish it, so she threw herself at Trian, leaving her bust open for an attack. Trian hit her hard with his mace – and they both froze for a second.

There was a vial of blood hidden in her specially prepared armor. Trian's mace should have smashed it but it must have moved into the cover of the breastplate, because it wasn't hit. Sigra, who was already prepared to fall to the ground, forgot herself in astonishment. Trian seemed angry with her, as if he blamed her for his unsuccessful movement.

'Keep fighting, you coward!' the princess shouted. She hoped her brother won't be too annoyed to lose his temper but it seemed that Trian understood the necessity of this farce. So they fought on, waiting for a chance to end the battle convincingly.

A minute passed or maybe two, when Sigra noticed Frandlin Ivo and the scout charging them. She panicked. If they have a chance to attack Trian, they will kill him or force me to do so, that is for sure. She found only one solution.

'Come on, men, help me!' she yelled and hoped that Trian would turn to face his new opponents.

Trian didn't turn, but he looked back above his shoulder and Sigra moved faster than ever in her life. She inflicted a light but heavily bleeding wound upon his brother's earlobe and knocked him unconscious with the hilt of her off-hand sword. Trian fell to the ground without a word.

Sigra knelt down next to him. Trian bled badly, but anyone could have noticed he was alive. Luckily, Gorim stopped the other men from approaching, but it was still risky to tell them what she needed to.

'He's dead. There is nothing I can do.'

'My lady' Gorim stood next to her, his face expressed nothing from what he thought. 'He attacked us first. You were well within your rights to defend yourself.'

'Are you all right, Lady Aeducan?' Frandlin took a step towards them. Sigra looked at him with an anger she didn't have to pretend.

'I just killed my brother. How do you think I feel?' she asked, hoping that Trian won't regain his consciousness before long.

'What do we do now, my lady? Shall we bring back these bodies to Orzammar?'

Sigra didn't have to answer this question: they heard heavy footsteps and the voice of the younger prince.

'Hurry up, father, I beg you, before it's too late…'