"So, my little bird has flown home," said Vestalus, with a smug tone in his paper-thin voice that made Cullen growl deep in his own throat. The man paid him no attention. "Perhaps the gilding of the cage is more amenable when there is something more lining its interior."

"I'm here on behalf of the Inquisition," said Cassandra. Her voice trembled slightly, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze.

The Mortalitasi smiled indulgently. "Yes. I had heard of your project. Strange you don't lead it yourself. Unless the Seekers chased some of your willfulness away," he said. He narrowed his eyes as he studied her. "Or perhaps used another method."

"The Seekers merely showed me who I am."

"And now here you are. Princess again after all this time. I look forward to seeing how you've changed, my dear," said Vestalus. "Perhaps you'll indulge an old man in a talk after dinner."

Dmitri stepped forward smoothly. "Quite impossible, I'm afraid. Princess Pentaghast is otherwise engaged this evening," he said. "However, my steward will be more than pleased to find you accommodations for the duration of your brief visit."

The mage's smile fell away as if it had never existed. "Take care, little prince," said Vestalus. "King Markus is not unaware of your ambitions. A disgraced Pentaghast will not be enough to achieve them, but they may be enough to achieve another sort of glory."

Cassandra's eyes flashed fire as she stood. "Tell King Markus, or the vultures ringed around him while he dies, that they need fear nothing from me," she said. "However, if the Grand Prince is sacrificed to your paranoia, they will have much to fear from my Inquisition."

Jealousy sparked inside of Cullen at the gratified look on Dmitri's face, but it was lost in Vestalus's laughter. "At least your ferocity hasn't lessened. But your trained hounds are more bark than bite, I'm afraid." He finally looked at Cullen contemptuously. "They won't harm me."

"I would not ask them to," she said and a sharp ache flew across her face. She closed her eyes, and the shiver of magic ran through the room. Dorian only grunted in his seat, and Solas made no noise at all, but the Nevarran mages around the table all cried out in pain. Vestalus took the full force of the wave, and he screamed and clutched at his arm.

Almost before anyone could react the feeling was gone, and Cassandra opened her eyes once more. "The Seekers were very instructive, Uncle," she said. "And I am no longer your ward. Do not test me." She turned on her heel until she was facing Solas and narrowed her eyes. "Come with me, please."

The elf obeyed, and Cullen stared after her. She'd lit the lyrium in the man's blood on fire! And the rest of the table's, by the look of it. Dorian's face was thunderous as Darren subtly rubbed his shoulder to soothe him, though his brother clearly didn't know what was wrong. Cullen did, but he was no less perplexed. He tried to remember the last time she'd used the ability she'd learned from the Seekers. Not since the war, at the very least. He knew she considered it a foolish weapon, much less worthy than her blade.

Maker, but she must have been angry.

Dmitri was busy offering obsequious concern to the furious Mortalitasi, so Cullen stood and slipped out behind his companions without another word.

He found them arguing in Cassandra's sitting room.

"How could you have invited him here?" she asked, pacing the length of the room with her ground-eating stride. It was hampered somewhat by her gown, but she barely seemed to notice. "He knows too much." She looked up and saw Cullen in the doorway and paled before turning back to the elf. "He's dangerous. And powerful."

Solas slammed his hand against the back of a chair. "Precisely. He's in the upper ranks of the order, and he knows what I need to know. The mages here are all ignorant of what I need. They know pieces of the whole, but not enough to stitch together. Not in time. I'm running out of time, Seeker."

That stopped her movements, and she peered at Solas's face. "Is this true?"

"Yes."

Cassandra glanced at Cullen, and he nodded slowly. The elf was telling the truth, as far as he could tell. She folded her arms and sighed. "Did it have to be him?" she asked.

"He was the only one sure to come, with the inducement of you," said Solas.

"I seem to be baiting many traps these days," she muttered, and Cullen took an involuntary step towards her. She looked up and gave him a half-hearted smile. "I do not like to be helpless."

He grinned back. "That's one thing you'll never be," he said. "And I'm not just saying that because I still can't take you in the ring."

The smile became more real, and his heart lightened as some of the worry smoothed from her face. She turned back to Solas with slightly less anger. "You realize Vestalus will never simply tell you what you want to know? You may be no better with him here than you were before."

"Well, my dear, you could always torture him some more. But if you do, please make sure I can be safely in another room," said a drawling voice from the door. They all turned to see Dorian and Darren staring at them. Cullen winced at Solas's exasperated look. He hadn't shut the door behind him.

Darren took care of that, and both men plopped themselves onto a long couch against the wall. Dorian's pique wasn't all feigned, and Cassandra bit her lip. "I'm sorry for that," she said. "My control is not what it used to be. I have not practiced that ability in some time."

"Yes, I noticed you were less forceful," said Solas. Cullen stared at the elf, who shrugged. "Leliana wished to test my purpose when I returned to the Inquisition. She was satisfied. Eventually."

Cullen turned his stare to Cassandra. "You tortured him?"

Cassandra looked uncomfortable, but Solas waved it off. "It was necessary. This was not a complaint, merely an observation. Regardless, it's not an option here. The point is to learn what I need without it being obvious that I have learned it."

"And what do you need, Solas?" asked Dorian. When the elf stared pointedly at his companion on the couch, Dorian rolled his eyes. "He's trustworthy. And he's Cullen's brother. He's not stupid. We both know that there's more to this flirtation than opening diplomatic relations. Not that I'm not enjoying our Nevarran vacation, but it would be nice to get to the point for once."

Solas glanced at Cullen, and he understood that there were still some things that even Dorian wasn't going to know. "I'm looking for an artifact of the ancient elves," he said. "For the Inquisition. Ellana requested it, and we are here to retrieve it."

"Fine. Where is it?"

"In the northern forest, but I don't know the exact location. Vestalus does, and he will tell me."

"Wonderful. How?"

"Through a much more reliable source than interrogation," said Solas. He looked in the corner of the room with a strange smile and beckoned, and suddenly a figure was perched on the side table.

Darren jumped and swore loudly. The rest of them just swore. Cole's pale face peered up at them worriedly from beneath his hat. "Hello," he said. "You don't have to forget anymore."

"He's really been with us the whole time?" asked Darren for the tenth time. "But I don't remember it?"

"Yes," said Dorian. He rubbed gentle circles on his back as they stood to leave. "You get used to it. Sort of. I'll explain in your room."

"You always say that, but you never get around to any explaining," complained Darren as they exited.

Cole still looked worried, though he'd taken a chair at least. He'd made the trip with them all the way from Lothering, His job had been to watch, and listen, and learn, and remember. Since their arrival in Cumberland, he'd also carried messages to the Temple Guardians, who'd arrayed themselves in the forest weeks ago in preparation for a search. All of Solas's hidden cards in this Wicked Grace game.

Cullen frowned. He hated Wicked Grace.

"He will be able to… read the location out of Vestalus's mind?" asked Cassandra doubtfully. "I thought he could only hear the pain of others, not their thoughts."

"All secrets are pain," said Cole, sounding surprised. "Sharp, sly edges, rocks in the shoes of the soul."

Solas nodded. "Trust me, Seeker. It will work. Cole has been very reliable, thus far."

Cullen shook his head even as Cassandra gave in. "I thought you were against using Cole like this. To… spy. As a tool."

Was there just a hint of shame in the elf's eyes? Impossible to tell, and Cole was already answering. "I'm helping the Inquisitor. Tools and spirits cannot choose, but I have chosen," he said happily, and Cullen left it be. Reluctantly. If Cole was happy, and it was helping Ellana, he supposed it wasn't his place to decide for him.

Cassandra snapped her fingers and made a flapping motion."Out. I have to find Dmitri," she said, herding them towards her door.

"Why?" asked Cullen. He didn't even try to hide his irritation.

She placed a distracted hand on his arm and rubbed her thumb across it in soothing waves. "If I do not, he will come here. And Cole is an explanation that should wait."

"Oh," he said stupidly. It was a perfectly logical reason that he was incapable of taking in while she was doing that. He was acutely aware of how long it had been since he'd touched her, really touched her, and even more aware of how much he wanted to. She was draped in beautiful silk, and her skin was creamy and pale, and she still smelled of the soap he loved so much. It was easy to see his arm slipping around her waist and pulling her close. He would taste that mouth that looked sweet but was always sinful, taste other parts of her that would leave her begging for him, and bloody Dmitri could go hang.

Dmitri. Right. He would come looking any minute.

Cullen reached down and removed her hand gently, squeezing it before he gave it back to her. She turned to him, startled, then flushed a bright pink that only made her more delicious. He gave in and brushed his lips across her cheek, smiling as she held her breath. "Go find your prince," he whispered.

She slapped him lightly across the shoulder and led them out into the hall. She left them, muttering, and Cullen's eyes followed her as she went. As she turned the corner, he blinked tears out of his eyes. "Cole," he said, and the spirit appeared next to him on silent feet. "Is she happy here? Like this?"

Cole shifted from foot to foot. "I'm not supposed to share secrets between friends," he said.

"Just tell me."

He closed his eyes. "Home could be happy, if she had a home. If she was just for herself. But who will want her?" he said. Cullen started to protest, that he did, but Cole continued on, "A princess or a pawn. Bait or a bride. Cullen wants a warrior and a wife, but what if she is more?"

The spirit blinked as he looked up at his Commander. "What if she is a woman?"

Later that night, he wandered through the halls, staring at the portraits that lined the walls. They were of old royals and notable citizens, though he'd noticed that the Van Markhams were placed rather more prominently, and in better lit locations, than any Pentaghast ancestors. Naturally enough. But he also noticed how many Mortalitasi had suddenly become notable citizens in the last decades, and how richly appointed they all were in their portraits.

Cullen dragged his fingers along the stone, wondering why he was so reluctant to rest. He shook his head, a little disgusted with himself. It wasn't much of a mystery. Cassandra was out here somewhere, and Cole's words were echoing through his head too loudly to ignore.

And then there were real words drifting through the air. He crept up to a set of open balcony doors. Cassandra and Dmitri were talking heatedly in the night air. Cullen settled in, a little guiltily, to watch and listen.

"You have to apologize to him," said Dmitri. "Your uncle is very upset."

"That was my purpose. I do not apologize where I feel no guilt."

"Andraste's flame, you've spent too much time with the Fereldan. No subtlety," said Dmitri, throwing his hands in the air. "Cassandra, it's dangerous for you to antagonize him."

"And for you," she said dryly.

He sighed. "Yes, and for me. Am I not allowed to be concerned for us both?" he asked. The prince took her hand and dropped his voice into pleading range. "The King is dying. He may already be dead. But the Mortalitasi say nothing, issuing proclamations and laws in his name that will doom us. The nobility is in terror of them. They hold the promise of the afterlife in their hands, and no one will risk the fight. Well, I will. I refuse to fear."

Cullen heard the sincerity in his voice, and the slight shake despite his words, and against his will he felt sympathy for the man. Meredith's face flashed in front of his mind, before she'd been turned to lyrium at the Gallows. No, it wasn't easy to stand against power.

The prince continued earnestly. "But the fight will take time. They wield power that I cannot match. I won't be able to keep you safe if Vestalus chooses to take issue with you."

"I don't require protection."

"I'll give it all the same," said Dmitri. He stepped closer. "Have you considered my proposal?"

Cullen hissed, but they didn't seem to hear him. He prayed it wasn't the type of proposal he'd dreaded, but knew that it almost certainly was.

Cassandra confirmed it. "I cannot marry you, Dmitri. You know this."

"I know nothing of the sort," he said. He hadn't moved away, and neither did Cassandra step back. "This is the time for a change in our country. But I can't do it alone. I had no conception of how to proceed until word arrived from Ambassador Montilyet of your interest in marriage. Your interest," he laughed. "I knew it was a lie even before I left. Cassandra Pentaghast, the famed Seeker, seeking a noble marriage? Never."

His voice softened. "And you'd already turned me down once before."

"We were children," she said.

"Who says children cannot know what they want? How old were you, when you joined the Seekers? How old was Cullen, when he joined your Templar Order?"

Cullen flinched at his name. This was too far. He shouldn't be hearing this at all. But he seemed frozen, stuck in place and doomed to know it all.

Cassandra's voice was hard. "We were all young. I am a Seeker no more, and Cullen has left the Templars behind. Children want, desperately, but they do not understand the consequences of their desires," she said. She pulled her hand away from the prince's and put it to his face. "This is a desire I cannot grant you."

"He is lucky, to mean so much to you," said Dmitri. He sighed and raised his hand to take hers once again. "But my hope still stands. You need not love me. The union of our names will be enough, and your influence more than enough, to rally the country to our cause. They don't trust the Mortalitasi, but they need someone to lead them. It must be us."

He turned his back to her and leaned against the railing. "Cullen seems to like Nevarra," he said. "He could stay. He has a gift for inspiration and would make a good general. He would do it if you asked him to, I'm sure." Dmitri's voice was strong, even with the defeat in his shoulders. "Isn't this why you formed your Inquisition? To fight against the excesses of power? To bring balance back to the world?"

She didn't answer him, and he pushed away with an irritated grunt. "Think about it. And apologize to your uncle."

Before Cullen could react, the prince stalked into the hall and collided against him in the darkness. Dmitri yelped and dropped into a fighting stance, then hardened when he saw who it was. "Talk to her," he said coldly. "She may listen to you."

When Cullen gathered enough courage to step outside with her, she was looking at the sky in thought. She didn't turn around, but she said, "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," he answered. "How did you know it was me?"

"Your smell is quite distinctive."

"Ah yes, the Fereldan smell of dog," he said, trying to laugh.

She turned, startled. "No. Leather and metal used by the Inquisition, and the cream you use in your hair."

Then he laughed in earnest. "I wasn't aware I had a smell," he said. He moved behind her and dared to put his arms around her waist. He reveled in the silk slipping along the pads of his fingers, though he kept them still and chaste. She leaned back against him and breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry I listened," he added.

"It is I who should apologize," she said. "I kept things from you. It seems I cannot stop doing so." She shifted in the circle of his arms, but he didn't let go. "Are you angry?"

"A little bit," he said. "But I'd rather be speaking to you and angry than silent and insecure."

"You have no reason for insecurity, Cullen."

"Another man has proposed a very attractive marriage to you," he said. He closed his eyes. "Come to think of it, the man is attractive as well."

She started to speak, but he overruled her. "It's not something to be tossed aside lightly. You know that as well as I do."

"Yes," she sighed. "Dmitri isn't wrong that there is much in Nevarra that needs to be addressed. My uncle has gained most of the power he wished, even without a royal ward to obtain it for him. And I've known since I was a child he should not have power. I know it even more now. I will not leave my country to his control, even if it hasn't been my country for some time."

Cullen's heart sank, and she must have heard a change in his breathing because she threaded her fingers through his own quickly. "But I reject that this must be done through marriage. The Inquisition is strong, and you have done much to bolster our reputation in only a few weeks."

"I have?"

She laughed, and he shivered at the feeling of it against his chest. "All I hear of is the handsome Commander who is noble on the field and off. They would follow you, if you led, for all you are Fereldan. Dmitri spoke truly."

His mind was traveling down other paths. The Inquisition in Nevarra. He leaned down and put his lips to her ear. "If Ellana dies…"

"I know," she said. The Inquisition would fall into chaos without its holy leader. Or, if not chaos, confusion enough to diminish them past usefulness to this country. She paused for a long minute, and he let her think. "What do you think I should do?"

It was his turn to consider, and he didn't rush to speech. That morning he would have told her he would invade in a heartbeat, that the path to help Nevarra ran solely through his sword. But Cole had warned him where her heart lay. Warrior and a wife, but what did the woman want? How could he choose for her when he wanted so badly? How could he not, with her on the line?

"I'm not sure I can tell you," he said eventually. "It's too difficult to see past my own wants."

"What you want matters in my choices, Cullen." She twisted around to face him, and he settled his hands more firmly on her hips. She was irresistibly solid against him, and he stopped trying to resist.

"Well, right now those wants tend to this gown on the floor of my room while I make you beg for me," he said. He put his lips to her ear again, brushing them with each word. His thumbs circled her hips, drawing closer to the core of her. "It's been far too long since I've heard that. I love the sounds you make when my mouth is on you. Is that want enough, Princess?"

She pushed him away and glared. "Stop it. We can't," she said. Her voice was strained, and her breath came a little more heavily than usual. "Don't tempt me. I could barely look at you after Highever. It has been just as long for me, as you're well-aware."

His eyes widened, and he shifted so he wasn't quite so flush against her. "That's why you were mad at me?"

"I was not mad. I was frustrated. I had never seen you spar in that fashion before. You use a surprising amount of your body when you fight, though you are still too protective of your left side. And you looked, well - it was very stimulating. Especially once you were sweating, and the sun was setting…"

She trailed off and shook her head. "Though if you fight in that manner here, please tighten your belt," she added, frowning. "You've lost weight, and your breeches rode so low as to be dangerous to everyone."

His unruly mind imagined her eyes skating down his torso, finding the lines she so often traced with her fingers and her tongue to send him into desperate need. His body was far too interested in making that a reality, so instead he laughed shakily. She narrowed her eyes. "It's not funny. I slept quite poorly."

"I won't pretend I'm not pleased," he said. "I don't want you to sleep well away from me."

She didn't reply, and he kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry. Beyond those immediate wants, what I want is for you to have a life that means something to you. Your passions have always been stronger than my own," he said. Cullen wrapped her tightly in his arms again. "And when I see the possibilities of my own futures, my only constant is you. You're what I want."

"I want you, too," she said, and pressed a feather-light kiss to his jaw. He closed his eyes against the bursting joy inside of him.

But there was still a mission. "Nothing needs to be decided tonight," he whispered. "Wait to see what Solas finds."

They broke apart reluctantly, and she smoothed away a tear on his cheek with the pad of her thumb. "Do you feel better?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. It sounded real. "Do you?"

"Better enough. For now," he said, thinking longingly of his lonely bed. "Do you want to tell me about your uncle?"

Cassandra looked out over the palace gardens, suddenly angry. "He sold my brother to the mages who killed him for his dragon hunter's blood. The ambush was Vestalus's design. Anthony died for coin, and to gain him a tractable royal pawn to advance his status," she said. Cullen stayed still as she ranged through her memories, though his mind had already come up with several new ways for Vestalus to feel pain. Her voice came from far away. "He always wanted more power, through us. My father was the Pentaghast. His own blood, my mother's, is diluted past usefulness. But he believed a woman would be more easily controlled. He planned to sell me as well, but for a very different purpose than my brother."

The shining onyx of her eyes gleamed dangerously. "He miscalculated. Badly. But obviously his lust for power has not abated." When she turned back, he saw regret and shame on her face. And he knew that she would welcome no comfort from him. "My family lacks in worth compared to yours, I'm afraid. Is there anything else you wish to know?"

"Yes," he said. He settled back against the railing with a severe look. "Did you really play tricks on Anthony with Dmitri? As a beleaguered older brother, I feel very betrayed by that."

She chuckled, and he spent the rest of the evening learning about her misadventures in Cumberland until they were too exhausted to stay awake.