Cullen was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Dressed up in some ridiculous velvet concoction of Josephine's, he sat upright at an ornate table of some noble in Orlais, trying to figure out just how exactly he was supposed to eat the food set in front of him. From the smell coming from it, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Maker, were these snails? He tried not to make a face as he brought the end of the curved shell to his lips.
At least they didn't taste as bad as they smelled. They were just a little salty.
"Is the escargot to your liking, Commander?" The daughter of the nobleman asked from across the table. She had been eyeing him through her intricate silver mask all night. Cullen knew better than to say no. "Yes, my lady," he dabbed his mouth with a napkin, hoping they wouldn't serve him more.
To his left sat Iris, and after her, at the head of the table, sat the lord, Comte Giroux, and his wife sat at the other end. Josephine sat across from Iris. The son and heir had not been able to join them that evening.
Comte Giroux was offering to support to the Inquisition in petitioning the Templars. This dinner was supposed to seal the deal, if it went well. So far it was going fine, but Cullen didn't quite like the way the daughter kept smiling at him, as if they were sharing a secret. Nobody had told him any secret.
The snails were soon whisked away by the servants, thank the Maker, and replaced with some sort of bread with stew spooned over it. Cullen rather enjoyed this dish, and had to put effort into not wolfing it down.
"Your Lordship," Iris began, "I would like to extend my personal thanks for your support in our petition to the Templar Order. Your support is invaluable to the Inquisition." The Comte nodded, "of course, Your Worship, this is a matter that cannot be ignored. The Templars have a duty to protect us from magical catastrophes such as this, and they should be made to perform their duty." It would seem that Josephine's lessons with Iris had paid off. She had been saying the right things all evening. Cullen had been mostly silent, unless spoken to, and Josephine had done the majority of the talking.
Occasionally, under the table, Iris's hand would drift over and rest on Cullen's knee. He found he rather liked that.
There was a break between supper and dessert, where they stepped out onto a balcony for a breath of fresh air. Cullen didn't quite understand what air had to do with dessert, but they were in Orlais and would play by the Orlesian's rules. Besides, it was a lovely night, and the garden below was rather pretty to look at. Iris seemed to enjoy it. She leaned on the balcony railing, dressed in the same uniform as he was, and gazed down at the flowers below, illuminated by the lamp posts lit over them.
Josephine had taught her to do makeup, and she wore it tonight. Her lips were a dark crimson, her cheekbones had more definition, and her eyes were lightly shadowed. Cullen had been awe-struck the first time he had seen her with it, and he was awe-struck now. He approached her to speak to her, but the daughter of the Comte practically jumped in front of him. "Commander Cullen, would you care for a walk in the garden?" Maker's breath, no, not with her, but he couldn't refuse. He caught Iris's look of amusement as he nodded politely. "As you wish, my lady." He offered his arm to the young woman. She rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and led him down off the balcony and through the garden path. Cullen wished he were walking with Iris.
"They call you the Lion of Ferelden," the lady said, practically hugging his arm. Cullen kept his eyes on the path ahead. "I have heard that." "It's a fitting title, Commander. Do you disagree?" Cullen's mind was on the dessert at that point. If he had heard correctly, they were having cheesecake. "I'm a human, not a lion." The lady laughed, tossing her head back. Was she wearing bells in her hair? The things these Orlesians came up with.
"Are you married, Commander?" He should have seen this coming. He considered telling her yes, so she would leave him be, but she would find out he was lying, and he didn't want to deal with that mess. "No, my lady." She squeezed his arm. He cleared his throat, "we should head back, my lady, dessert is waiting."
"I'm sure it can wait a few more minutes, Commander." She was leaning on him. Maker's breath, he was uncomfortable. He didn't want to be rude, but he did not like this. Not only that, but they were no longer in sight of the balcony, having gone behind a row of hedges. Cullen ran his free hand under his collar, gulping. He wanted to leave.
"Commander?" Thank the Maker, it was Josephine. "Ah, there you are. Lady Giroux, your mother is looking for you. Something about a dropped bell." Cullen could see the lady's disappointment. She curtsied to Cullen and hurried off. Josephine watched her go and turned to Cullen with a sly smile. "I thought you might need a rescue." "Thank you," he was sincere. He followed her back to the balcony. Iris stood on it, looking down at them, the light of the dining room behind her illuminating her. Maker's breath, she was beautiful. Cullen found himself with a smile on his face. "There you are," she called down. "I was wondering where you had gotten off to."
He ascended the balcony's stairs and stood beside her, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers gently. She smiled at him. "It's time for dessert, Commander." He winked at her, "I'd much rather have you." She grinned and looked away, blushing furiously. Cullen was quite proud of himself.
"Are you two coming or not?" Josephine tapped her foot by the door. "Yes, sorry," Cullen cleared his throat, remembering they were not alone. "After you, Your Worship." He followed the two women inside. He wasn't one for dinner parties, but at least he had her.
And cheesecake. He liked cheesecake.
