Alistair waited two days before sending the summons. He had wanted to rush to the compound the morning after he'd seen Zevran in the palace, but he knew he had been spending too much time there lately, and he didn't want to give people any more reason to talk than he already had. Not only that, but he wanted to wait until all the nobles who had been there for the Landsmeet had gone home... well, that and to see if a body suddenly showed up in the palace. Luckily that had not happened, so once all the guests had gone, Alistair sent a page to the compound to tell Zevran to see him immediately.

He didn't understand the secrecy to it all. Zevran would have been allowed entrance into the palace, had he requested it. Most of the guardsmen at the gates knew him by reputation and description, if not by sight, and if he had been there to see someone, they would not have barred his way. There would have been no real reason to show up in a disguise. No, the fact that he had been there when he was, when all of the nobles were otherwise occupied, it could not be a coincidence. He was there for a reason, and Alistair would find out what that reason was.

"Zevran Arainai to see you, sire," said a guardsman at the door to his sitting room.

Alistair gestured to the man, and Zevran was shown in. The assassin swept his cloak to the side, bowing elaborately.

"Leave us," Alistair told his guard, and the man left, closing the door behind him. Alistair pointed to a chair. "Sit," he said.

Zevran smiled at the king. "Shall I roll over as well? Play dead, perhaps?"

"That may indeed be a possibility," said Alistair. "But first, I want answers. Why were you sneaking around the palace the other night... in a dress, no less?"

"No small talk first?" Zevran asked. "Do you not wish to ask me about my duties at the compound, talk about the fine weather we've been having lately, perhaps chat a little on Jessimyn's recovery?"

Alistair frowned. "No. Tell me why you skulking about the palace in a disguise. I am not so easily charmed by you as... others may be. I will know why you were trespassing."

"You may not be charmed," Zevran said. "But you're right. Others are. I was here visiting a lady friend of mine. With your little dinner going on, we thought it would be the perfect time for such a visit, as we would not be... interrupted."

Alistair was surprised by how much he wanted to believe this explanation. After all, if Zevran had a friend here in the palace, perhaps there really was no relationship between him and Jessimyn? Still, he had learned long ago not to accept the first excuse the assassin gave. There was always more to the story than he was willing to share. "Really? What's her name, then? How did you meet her? And that still wouldn't explain why you were in disguise."

"She is shy, and I don't think she would appreciate me talking of her to anyone, even you. I was in disguise so no one would think anything of it if they saw another woman going into her room."

Alistair crossed his arms. "I have a hard time believe you would go to such great lengths, just for sex."

Zevran's eyes narrowed a little as he smiled. "You mean you don't know why I'd do all that, when I could just as easily walk over to the women's barracks to give a certain brunette a tumble?"

Alistair's hands clenched down on the arms of his chair, and he gritted his teeth. "Don't think you can distract me so easily from my questions, Zevran. You wish to anger me, so that I will throw you out. It won't work. You will tell me what you were doing here. The truth this time."

Zevran sighed, his face becoming very serious. "What would you do, if I told you something that might hurt your dear Jessimyn?" Alistair half-rose out of his chair, and Zevran held his hands up. "It is not I who would harm her, Alistair. This you know. Rather, what I meant... If you had information about something, what would you do with it, if you knew it would hurt her?"

Alistair's frown deepened. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

With a nonchalant roll of his wrist, Zevran said, "Something to do with the attack."

The king leaned forward in his chair. "What have you found? If there is a threat against her, surely she and I must both be made aware of it."

Zevran shook his head. "Not against her, no. Against me."

Alistair scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "Speak plainly, Zevran. You're going to tell me everything you know, so stop being so cryptic."

Zevran laughed. "I am, am I? Very well. I knew the attack was not random. There was too much that pointed to it being planned and staged, so I have investigated. What I've found is that the intended target was not our lovely Grey Warden, but rather me. I was the one someone wanted dead. Jessimyn just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Who?" Alistair asked. "The Crows?"

With a shake of his head, Zevran said, "No, it was not the Crows. Of that I am sure."

Alistair stood up and began pacing. "Then who?" He stopped, peering at Zevran. "Someone in the palace. That's why you were here, to... spy? Exact revenge? I have heard of no deaths, but I'm sure you know all about hiding bodies. Maker, Zevran. Who was it? How..."

Zevran cut him off. "I have killed no one... yet. In fact, I was not even certain of who was behind the attack, until..." He sighed. "I went back to the building, where the Crimson Oars had been hiding out. It had been cleaned up, and I found the man who had done the cleaning. Turns out he was a contact they used, to bring in possible clients. All very amateur, really. He recognized me from my description, as I was the mark, not Jessimyn."

Alistair's eyebrows shot up. "...And?"

"Well, that lead to a number of questions. Who in Denerim might want me dead, and for what reason? This man, he had been told that I had stolen something from you, and that's why I needed to be assassinated."

"Stolen something from me," Alistair repeated. "Like what?"

"Not what, but whom, I think. It's my belief that someone was upset by my closeness to Jessimyn and wanted me out of the way. Permanently."

Alistair was silent for a long time, looking at Zevran. What was he supposed to make of that? "That... seems like a large leap to make, don't you?"

Zevran shrugged. "Perhaps, but it made as much sense as anything else. While I may have many enemies in Antiva, I have none... well, few anyway... in Denerim who would wish me dead."

Alistair sat back down. "But... if this is true, if someone was trying to kill you because..." He shook his head. "Who, Zevran?"

The assassin smiled at him. "Well, I saw two strong possibilities for who it might be, who would have a vested interest in keeping me away from Jessimyn. You, of course, would be one of them."

Alistair managed to keep his face smooth. "Me? Well, I won't deny I haven't wished you from our lives before, but... I assume since you're telling me all of this, you've realized I had nothing to do with your attack."

Zevran laughed. "Such honesty! But no, I've seen nothing that shows you were involved in any way... although I wasn't really looking at you in the first place."

"Then who?"

Zevran frowned. "Fergus."

"Maker," Alistair breathed. "That's what you meant, something that could hurt Jessimyn. You really think her brother tried to have you killed? But why?"

With a shrug, Zevran said, "He has never tried to hide his dislike for me. I am an elf, and I... well, what more is there to it, in his mind? That his blooded sister would have anything to do with someone like me..."

"I'm sure Fergus dislikes lots of people. That doesn't mean he tries to have them killed. This is a serious accusation you make, Zevran. What proof do you have?"

Zevran sighed. "Nothing I can show you, unfortunately. I did... manage to get into his rooms and look around, though."

"You... broke into a teryn's apartments?" Alistair sputtered. "You could be... that is a serious crime."

A wide grin spread across Zevran's face. "Ah, but I was not caught. Would you like to hear what I found, or do you not wish to know more of my... crime?"

Alistair grunted. "Tell me."

Zevran nodded. "It was in his manservant's room that I found what I found. The man had quite a lot of equipment for disguising himself. Makeups and wigs, all different sorts of clothing not suitable for a servant of his station. He also had quite a bit more gold than a servant should have, all parceled out into a number of purses."

Alistair shook his head. "Odd, yes, but none of that proves that they've done anything wrong."

"And poisons," Zevran continued, as though he hadn't been interrupted. "More types than what even I am familiar with. Deathroot, wolfsbane, nightshade. They even had satyrion powder."

Alistair frowned. "Satyrion powder? I've never heard of that?"

Zevran gave him an amused look. "No? It's not a poison, not necessarily. It's a strong aphrodisiac. A pinch stirred into your wine, and you are soon ready for a long night of lovemaking."

"But why would he..." Alistair shook his head. "No matter. All of these things you have found, they don't prove anything."

"No, that they do not. But they are curious, nonetheless. Why would a respectable noble have a servant who is well-versed in disguise and poisons?"

Alistair leaned back in his chair, thinking. Fergus had always struck him as a trustworthy man. Certainly he was ambitious, but to resort to murder? "Why would he want you dead?" He asked again. "If everyone who disliked you tried to kill you, I'm sure you would have been dead long ago."

Zevran smiled. "Well, there are plenty who have tried, it is certain. But no, it is more than just his simple dislike of me that pushed him to this. As I said, he thinks I've stolen something... someone from you. Perhaps he enjoys the influence he has on you, with his sister as your mistress, that he is willing to do whatever it takes to keep Jessimyn from taking another lover."

Alistair ground his teeth together. There was so much about that sentence that he didn't like. "She's not... my mistress," he said, spitting out the word.

"Is she not? You are a married man, yes? And you have sex with her, though she is not your wife? You do not seem to be in the habit of taking other lovers, which would mean she is special to you in some way. I think that would make her your mistress, yes? Regardless of whatever feelings the two of you think you share."

Alistair decided to let it go. He wasn't going to discuss such things with Zevran. "But... Fergus is a teyrn. He has plenty of influence simply by holding that title."

Zevran laughed. "I may be the son of a whore, but I understand politics better than you, it seems. Everyone does everything they can, to make sure they get their way. You are married to the daughter of the other teyrn in Ferelden. If you are sleeping with Jessimyn as well as your Lyrina, then that would put the two teyrns on more even footing, would it not?"

"I..." Alistair began.

"But come now. Surely you've heard our dear Jessimyn talk about her family? About family in general, and what it means to the Couslands. If her brother feels like I've sullied her honor, that right there might be enough to want to see me dead."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably. "Have you told Jessimyn about all of this?"

Zevran smiled. "And how do you think she would react to all of this? No, I have said nothing to her, and I'd suggest you do the same. Even if we had further proof, I would hesitate. Besides, her brother has gone home to Highever, has he not? This whole assassination seemed a very rushed thing to me. It was not terribly well planned, maybe even done on the spur of the moment. I doubt I have any need to worry as long as he is not in Denerim."

Alistair nodded, staring off. "I... assume you'll still be careful, though," he said after a moment.

"Your concern is touching," Zevran said with a smile before turning serious. "But yes, I will be careful. I'd suggest you do the same. I'd be careful how far and how much you trust this man."

"Yes, well..." Alistair sighed. "Maybe you're right."

The two men said their goodbyes, and Zevran left, leaving Alistair to his thoughts. If Zevran's allegations were true, what did it mean? What would Jessimyn think if she found out? And how would she react, if she knew they were keeping the information from her?