Just inside the inner gate, the cart stood, overflowing with blooms. It had been moved there fairly recently, judging from the deep ruts in the grass and the fresh mud still caked to the wheels. White and pale purple, occasionally sprinkled with petals of deep blue. A bowery. When Solas had passed through the Skyhold maingate, much like the last time, he was searched thoroughly. His pack was emptied, items spilling out onto the stone walk, a glass bottle cracking where it landed, his papers strewn and dirtied. That had dismayed him, but it paled in comparison to the feeling of seeing this cart loaded with flowers. They were fresh and celebratory in nature.

He wondered if he at least had time to sleep before she was married off to another.

The reception in the courtyard was every bit as hostile as the one at the gates. "It would be better," the soldier told him, "if you remain in the rotunda until further notice."

"I have a room on the second floor," he responded warily.

"Not any longer. All guest rooms are being turned over for the celebration."

Of course.

"And my things? I had books and changes of clothing in that room."

"They've already been relocated."

He heard the heavy wooden door click shut as he dumped the remnants of his pack onto the table. At least they had appeared to take some care with his displaced belongings, which were now stacked on top of the trunk. The room had been hastily cleaned, with clouds of dust still lingering in the streaming sunlight. Other than that, it appeared to have been largely untouched since he left. The same drapecloth hung from the scaffolding, where he could see the edge of a pan and the handle of a trowel undisturbed. The piles of books overflowed from the overstuffed sofa, just where he had left them. The papers on the table that had served as his makeshift desk had clearly been rifled through, then returned into a semi-organized state. From the level of dust on each of the pages, this had been done shortly after his departure. Whatever they'd been looking for, they had not found it.

Or him.

It was a good hour past when he finally had things sorted back to a familiar almost normalcy. Solas took a step back and gazed up at the fresco. She hadn't painted over his walls. It was a small comfort, but one he would take. His eyes fell on the unfinished panel, still a rough sketch of the larger image, waiting. He had intended to finish it, after the great victory was won. He had intended to return here, intended to use the orb's power to remove the mark from her hand, intended to tell her as much as he could muster. He had intended to explain why he had come here, explain why he had followed her, explained why he had ended their love affair.

He had intended a great many things.

There was a knock at his door, formal. Solas wondered if he was meant to go and answer it. This room had never exactly been treated as one of explicit privacy, not with the floors above able to watch his every movement. The moment he took a step forward, it cracked open.

Evelyn entered. She was dressed in dark green, bodice tight and rigid before spilling out into voluminous skirts. It surprised him still, to see this new incarnation. One of fashion and appearance, proper and perfectly in step. She closed the door carefully behind her and stepped into the room.

"You've returned."

"I have," he answered warily.

"And did you find what you sought?"

"I have."

"When can we remove it, then?"

Solas glanced back at the desk. "It will take me some time to organize my findings, gather needed materials, I will need to-"

"How long?"

"Two weeks, if we have what I need on hand."

She nodded, using her hands to smooth the fabric just below her waist. "So still before the wedding."

"Oh," he raised his eyebrows. "I had thought that it was perhaps happening sooner."

"Disappointed?" she said flatly.

"No. I saw the cart with the flowers."

"Ah. Another dinner. It seems that these things come with endless dinners."

"Not all of them."

Evelyn's look grew sharp. "No, I suppose not all of them do."

He clenched his jaw slightly. "Was there something you needed, Inquisitor?"

"I wanted to know if you had found a solution. I wanted to ask."

"And you have. And I have answered."

They stared at one another.

"I should get going. I have a dinner to prepare for, guests to greet."

"Do not let me keep you."

Another stare.

"Is that really it? That's all you have to say to me? After everything?"

"Could anything I say change it?" he asked quietly.

"Is that what you want? To change it?"

Solas stepped back to lean on the edge of his table. "I meant what I said, Evelyn."

Her posture shifted when he used her name. "Which part? The part when you told me you loved me, that this was real? Or the part where you told me you can't love me any longer, and that I should harden my heart? What was the pretty phrase you used? Hone it like the edge of a blade?"

"I meant all of it. Just not all of it was meant for you."

Her mouth twisted and she raised a fist in front of it, pressing against her lips. "Then why did you need to harden your heart against me?"

"Perhaps I was afraid of the inevitable hurt your engagement announcement would bring. Little did I realize it stung every bit as much. There was no amount of time or distance that could ease that particular pain."

"I only agreed after you left." The last word was made of ice.

"After telling me you could not imagine a circumstance in which you would. Apparently there was one."

"Apparently there was."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "This conversation is pointless. We are intent on hurting one another."

"You hurt me first. You don't get to march in and play the wounded party after telling me you didn't love me any longer."

"I have never said I do not love you any longer."

They stared.

"Then why?" her voice wavered and his heart thudded painfully. "Why nothing for all these months? Why was the last happy memory I have of you the same memory of being left in a fucking wyvern den? Why did you leave without saying goodbye? And why are you here now?"

"These are all things I hope to explain in due time."

"In due time," her voice rose, the sound of tears hovering just behind her angry tone. "If you haven't noticed," she hissed, "there isn't any more time. You are out of time."

"I am sorry to hear that," he turned back to his desk, examining the sketches with forced intent. "Tell me, how were you able to procure an annulment so quickly?"

Evelyn's eyes darted to the level above. She crossed the room and stood close behind him. "It looks like that entire village was obliterated. No revered sisters. No innkeep. No serving girl to be found. Whatever record existed, it is now gone. Another casualty of the war."

He turned, their faces mere inches apart. "The war has taken many casualties. I hope the journey was not too inconvenient for you."

She backed up a step. "I sent Warren."

Solas turned back to his table, "Of course you did."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I am sure he is quite discreet."

"My brother would not betray me."

"I am sure he would not."

"I always did hate how irritatingly calm you can be."

"Do not mistake my tone for calm."

He could hear her approach the door, her steps angry. "Evelyn," Solas called, hearing her skid to a stop, "I hope to share with you where I was, and why. It was necessary, even if it caused you pain. I see things differently now. Much has changed, true. My feelings for you have changed as well."

"So now you're ready to tell me you don't love me any longer," she said in an incredulous voice.

"If anything, I love you more than I ever have."

There was the sound of a table shifting from the library floor above. Evelyn took in a deep breath and steeled herself. "It would be best if you remained in the rotunda tonight, as we will have guests in the hall. There will be a guard posted outside the entrances and exits, as a formality."

"I have no intention of ruining your party, Inquisitor."

She threw the door open and closed it heavily behind her. Across the great hall she fled, feeling as if the air had been sucked from her lungs. A woman with an armful of blossoms raised her fingers in greeting and Evelyn pushed past her, forcing her way toward the door to her private chambers, refusing to be stopped until she had it closed behind her.

Solas sat in his chair and began to sort through the scattered papers, stacking one blue-covered book on top of another. He reached for a fallen page and found his fingers not quite able to rest on it. His hand was shaking. He slumped back against the tufted fabric and raised a hand to his eyes, willing himself to calm.

The matriarch of the Vail family watched Evelyn's flight from her position on the balcony overlooking the great hall. She frowned deeply and pushed back from the rail, barely acknowledging the page who rushed in from the library. Below her, Halden made his way through the crowd, calling out to two of the men arranging banquet tables against the east wall.

"Tonight?" the page asked, reaching for the envelope she extended.

"It can wait until their guests have departed," she responded. "I would rather not ruin their party."