No translations.
Politics
Duke Sandral met me at the carriage, which meant I got to see his reaction to my attire without allowing him any time to moderate it.
He wasn't entirely amused - but he wasn't entirely unamused, either.
"You certainly know how to read the mood of a city, I will give you that," he murmured as he escorted me to meet his wife, son, and daughter. I stored the comment away to relay to Elze later. "Perhaps we will have a chance to speak more of it on the dance floor."
"That would please me, Your Grace," I assured him, and then greeted the Duchess with a smile. She returned it without hesitation, meeting my eyes easily, which I better understood when she introduced herself in an Orlesian accent. One did not rise to become a Duchess by being a fool - she knew what my accessories signified, but was too adept a player of the Game to give any hint of her opinion on the matter. Her children were less skilled - particularly her son and the heir to the rulership of the city, who was my age, or a little older. His shocked stare was so open it was nearly rude. The daughter was better, but there was a degree of strain in her expression. Both had the presence of mind to request a dance later in the evening, at least, and I accepted, as I was bound to.
Interestingly, they were both apparently unmarried. The heir I could understand - with the fate of the Nevarran throne still uncertain, and Cumberland such an important population center, it made sense to wait until the question was settled before attempting to make an alliance. The Duke would likely want someone of standing from within Nevarra - a new monarch, only distantly related to the current one, would by necessity rearrange ties between the nobility and the crown. But his daughter? The fact that she wasn't yet married said a great deal, none of it especially good for the standing of His Grace's family.
Introductions complete, the Duke led me into the ballroom and we made our way unhurriedly toward the dance floor, stopping to talk with nearly anyone we encountered. Duke Sandral made introductions, and I enjoyed watching eyes widen in the moment before hasty courtesies were made. Before us, people fell silent, while those behind whispered furiously.
After several minutes we gained the floor, which the conductor of the Duke's chamber orchestra must have been watching for, because a short interlude began, warning attendees that the ball was about to begin in earnest. A set formed up as if by magic, and the minuet began.
I was glad I had practiced, however briefly, because I had much more important things on my mind than properly-executed grace steps - and yet these were of significant import. I couldn't speak personally with everyone in the room, but most of the people could - and would - watch me dance. I would be judged on how well I performed, and so, too, would both the Inquisition and the Divine it served.
The Duke and I made our honors to each other, and then met in the middle of the line of dancers. His expression was stoic, bordering on grim, and I quickly shook my head, smiling brightly, as though he had said something witty to make me laugh. "Smile, Your Grace," I advised him. "You are charmed by my youth and beauty, and I by your status and good breeding." He looked surprised for a moment - which was better - and then put on a smile. It wasn't as competent as his wife's, but I judged it would be plausible enough at any distance. Only I would see it didn't reach his eyes. "With any luck, the rumor will circulate that you have either taken me as your mistress or are negotiating a marriage for your son - or, preferably, both rumors will compete with each other. If the nobles of the Free Marches are convinced you have some tie to the Chantry and the Inquisition - either current or imminent - how many more marriage offers from outside Nevarra are you likely to receive for your daughter?"
I had observed the affection with which he looked at both his children, and suspected he would prefer to have his daughter settled outside the country and out of harm's way. A husband within Nevarra might still back the wrong faction - and put both himself and any wife or children he had in danger along with him.
His Grace's eyes widened slightly, though he managed to keep his smile fixed in place, but he had no chance to respond before the dance separated us briefly. When we met again to parade down the line, he had brought his expression under better control. "You are either better-informed than I had ever imagined, or you have taken to Orlesian politics like a swan to water," he said in a low voice. "I don't know whether to be intimidated or reassured. But what have you to gain from such rumors?"
"I suggest you refrain from indulging in either emotion," I replied, glancing up at him through my lashes and then looking away modestly as we parted for a turn. If I had to choose between the two responses, I would prefer he be intimidated - but an alliance would be more effective if we entered as equals. When we met again, I continued: "The benefit to me isn't hard to find. I have a task to accomplish, and to complete it I must avoid panic at all costs, but may also need to assert my authority." Elze's idea - to play upon fears of the Qunari - was one avenue. Having the ruling duke in my debt was another. There was no reason not to pursue both.
"The Qunari are not the most pressing threat," he acknowledged. "The current threat is, in many ways, more difficult to manage."
"Indeed. Much easier to rally people against an enemy that can be seen and fought off," I agreed, tilting my head toward him as though sharing a confidence. "Sometimes an invisible enemy inspires caution and skepticism rather than bold action - particularly in the wealthy, who may feel insulated from the problem."
We parted for another moment, and then met again to parade back up the line. "That cannot be allowed to happen here," he said, his decisive tone at odds with the smile he still had fixed in place. When I glanced at him, his eyes burned with a fierce resolve. "In that much, we certainly have an accord."
"Do we, Your Grace? Do you actually comprehend the scope of the changes that may be necessary?" I asked with a breathy laugh.
His smile slipped at little as he glanced down at me. "I comprehend the horrors of red - the poisoning," he responded.
"A pleasant chat between people of rank," I reminded him, and he managed a believable laugh.
"I...thank you for being relatively straightforward with me, though I suspect that the Duchess will find small revelations I have missed, if I am able to recount this conversation in sufficient detail," he said. Ah. It seemed I owed the Duchess a dance, as well. It was always difficult to be certain, going in, how much a particular ruler's spouse was involved in his or her decisions, but I thought Sandral astute to make use of his wife's background and training.
"Politics are bound up in this matter, as they are in all matters," I replied, "but the problem is not of a political nature and is better addressed directly. If all parties are capable of facing a harsh reality, that is."
"I have seen one of the - afflicted Templars personally," he told me, his smile slipping again as his gaze became distant. "Had I not, your doubts might be well-placed - but the sight is not one a man with any discernment puts aside easily. And everyone, Your Worship, must drink water in one form or another. Even the wealthy."
I let that piece of unexpected wisdom stand, acknowledging it with a gracious nod as we parted for the final time to take our places along the lines of dancers, watching with the attention expected of both of us as the next pair performed.
It was expected that I would dance every dance - I would have offers enough, as the guest of honor, and it was politically expedient to acquaint myself with as many people as possible. The dance floor was also, as the Duchess Florianne de Chalons had once so graciously demonstrated, an excellent place for discreet conversation. That meant my only respite came when the orchestra took a few minutes to refresh themselves now and again. At these times, I ate and drank anything handed to me, no matter how I felt about its actual flavor, because I hadn't time to go looking for something I might enjoy.
Besides, even if the perfume wasn't quite as overwhelming as it would be at an Orlesian affair, my nose was essentially numb within an hour.
Sandral had a few words with his son, and we danced three dances together - not so many that anyone could credibly speculate we were already engaged, but more than we needed for the mere sake of politeness. I also danced twice with his sister and once with the Duchess. That conversation was more illuminating than anyone not trained in Orlesian politics could possibly understand. She did not comprehend firsthand, it seemed, the full threat of red lyrium - but she did have enough of her husband's confidence to observe that he was...frightened nearly out of his wits might be an unkind way of putting it, but it seemed he did indeed take the threat of red lyrium as seriously as I could wish. Meanwhile, the lady's most fervent wish was to see her daughter settled somewhere else - away from Nevarra's current political upheaval, and out of the direct path of the rampaging Qunari Antaam.
Kirkwall, Markham, or her own native Orlais seemed to be the Duchess's preferences. I might have found someone in Orlais, but from my own observation I didn't think the girl suited to the Game, so instead I pointed out that I was a close personal friend of Kirkwall's Viscount. The Duchess, in turn, pointed out that she was the leader of the female half of society in Cumberland, and we quickly came to an agreement via insinuation and suggestion: I would help arrange an appropriate marriage for her daughter, and she would keep the ladies of Cumberland from complaining too loudly, no matter what measures I deemed necessary to keep the lyrium outbreak under control.
Once one became accustomed to it, the language of Orlesian politics really could be remarkably efficient.
Most of the dances in which I was not engaged by the Duke's family, I danced with young men from Starkhaven. They had, after all, traveled a considerable distance for the honor of staring at me, speaking a few words, and perhaps touching my gloved hand. I was also, it seemed, considered a prime marriage prospect - which made sense once I gave more consideration to what I knew of Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven. He was sworn to the Chantry and therefore unmarried, celibate, and likely to remain both - meaning he was also without a clear heir. Oh, he had named someone, of course - he was, by all accounts, too responsible not to - but as the man was only a distant relation, the ostensible heir's claim was considerably less solid than it would otherwise be. The throne of Starkhaven was almost as open as the throne of Nevarra, the only real difference being that Prince Sebastian was much younger than King Markus, and by all accounts in excellent health. Well - and he wasn't rumored to be mad or the puppet of his mages.
I, meanwhile, was not only Right Hand of the Divine - and therefore likely to be looked upon favorably by the Prince - but also, thanks to Varric and his eternal cleverness, a comtesse of Kirkwall. And Kirkwall was one of Starkhaven's primary trading partners.
Given the avidity with which the visiting nobles circled me, I thought assassination was considerably less likely at this ball than a kidnapping and forced marriage. Thankfully, between the watchful eyes of numerous rivals and Elze's cleverness in reminding everyone that I had killed a great many bloodthirsty Qunari, no one was daring enough to make the attempt.
I closed the ball dancing my last dance with Sandral's son, who couldn't seem to decide if he was terrified by or quite taken with me. He said little beyond the most obvious commonplaces as he admired my bare shoulders and décolletage, and it was therefore up to me to flirt outrageously in order to seed the rumors I wished to see take root. I sincerely hoped, for the sake of the city, that the Duke found his son a capable wife - the young man was much too easily put off by a little bared skin and participation in a handful of noteworthy battles.
When the Duke personally handed me into Fiona's waiting carriage - where both the Grand Enchanter and Sera, still in the guise of my maidservant, were already ensconced - I was very glad to be off my feet. Sera, bless her, handed me a roll of bread stuffed with meat and cheese as soon as the door was closed. "I think I love you," I muttered, biting into it.
"Knew you'd need it," she replied smugly. "Besides, keep you quiet while I tell you about all the interesting bits you missed out on."
I was perfectly happy with that arrangement, and so I ate while she told me about her night - which had indeed been eventful. She had met up with Varric's people, traveling among the nobles from Starkhaven. They had started by just gossiping with the palace's servants: "Duke's all right, for a nob. Wife's a little bitchy - Orlesian - but not beat the servants just 'cause you feel like it bitchy. Daughter's all right. Son has a thing for elf girls, but Dad threatened to cut off his allowance if he kept pawing the servants instead of taking it to a proper brothel. Something-something weakening family standing with elf-blood bastards - you know how it goes."
I nodded. I had indeed learned how it went - at least the girls in brothels were usually provided with contraceptives. His preferences explained a thing or two about the staring. I hoped he didn't start believing I might actually marry him.
"Heard you danced three times. He didn't paw you, did he?" Sera asked.
"Wouldn't dare," I said around my bite of food.
"If the Duke knows of his proclivity," Fiona put in, "I'm certain he was explicitly warned. Sandral may have a spare, as it were, but having his son stabbed on a ballroom floor for taking liberties with the Right Hand of the Divine would...weaken his position in society considerably."
I swallowed. "Perhaps that is why he barely spoke to me while we danced," I said before taking another bite.
"Quite likely," Fiona chuckled. "Let us say - the city wishes the current Duke a long and healthy life."
Sera went on with her recounting. Varric's people had passed her some documents filched from a number of Starkhaven's nobles - nothing immediately useful, but things that Leliana or I might find worthwhile later. Then they had started talking to servants who worked for the rest of Cumberland's aristocrats, most of whom were, of course, in attendance. They had uncovered such a number of affairs and legally questionable - or at least unquestionably sordid - business deals that Kada, leading Varric's band of rogues, spies, and probably smugglers, had passed around a journal so everyone could note names, titles, lovers, and crimes. "I've got the list," Sera assured me, "but it's nothing you need to see, yeah? Kada will give me a few of her best burglars, I'll recruit a few Jennys - we'll have any proof there is to find faster than you'll be able to use it."
"Harding might lend you a few of hers," I pointed out, having polished off my snack sometime in the middle of her recounting.
She wrinkled her nose. "Sure, and some of 'em are good enough - but I'd leave the Inquisition out, since I can. Safer. Cleaner."
"Harding's scouts are unlikely to talk - but fair enough," I allowed.
With the important parts covered, I found myself falling into a light sleep as the carriage rumbled back to the College. When we arrived, I stumbled up to my room, not even bothering to ask for anything else to eat. It could wait until breakfast. Not wanting to wake Elze, I had Sera help me out of my dress, and then fell into bed, exhausted.