This was supposed to go up yesterday, and I just...sort of forgot. Sorry. I'm bad at remembering things sometimes. Often. Most of the time.

Briala

I doubted anyone was truly scandalized by my entrance on Grand Duke Gaspard's arm - the entire court had to know the source of the Inquisition's invitation - but it was true that we seemed to move in a bubble of relative silence, with the pace of gossip picking up in our wake. He was, when I glanced up at him, smirking, his chest puffed out with evident pride. How much of it was a front, I couldn't say for certain, but not much, I thought. Though I also didn't believe the motives underlying the emotion were as simple as "pretty woman" or "powerful player in world politics." There was something so possessive in his grasp that I couldn't shake the feeling that there was some "conquered the elven savage" in there as well, and there might have been additional layers that I couldn't read.

Even so, I wasn't entirely disinclined toward charity - I had, after all, already bested him, whether he knew it or not, and the small courtesies he offered, pausing now and then to introduce me to someone of note as we crossed the vestibule, were of use to me.

I heard a large door being opened as we - presumably - approached the end of the room, and felt a waft of warmer air that smelled rather stiflingly of perfume. There were many more auras beyond. Whatever might draw people out into the vestibule, it was clear where the real seat of power resided.

We parted at the door, Gaspard led away by the herald to be announced. I was next, of course, as the one formally accompanying the duke. Next was Cassandra, then Josephine, and then Vivienne - who was introduced as Bastien de Ghislain's mistress, clarifying their connection for me, though I was surprised that it appeared to be an officially recognized title in Orlais. I had suspected they were involved, of course, but hadn't quite possessed the courage to ask her directly.

After Vivienne were Dorian, Leliana, Varric, Cullen, and - last, naturally - my "serving man," Solas. Even knowing the words were coming, I still had to suppress my wince.

I joined Gaspard on the landing below Celene. She was a blur of blue and gold - the colors of her House. "Cousin," the duke greeted her shortly, and then turned to the person on her right, his voice warming several degrees. "My dear sister."

That would be Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. Whatever she was wearing blended too easily with the background, and I could pick her out only by her aura.

"Grand Duke," a soft, carefully cultivated voice greeted him. Celene's voice reminded me of Clarel's, but without the unwavering sincerity. It wasn't how I had expected the empress to sound. "We are always honored when your presence graces our court."

"Don't waste my time with pleasantries, Celene. We both know where we stand. Let us conclude this business without delay," the duke replied impatiently, and I wondered at his unwillingness or inability to play the Game with Celene.

"We will meet for the final negotiations after we have seen to our other guests," the Empress replied, a hint of steel entering her voice. I didn't know how often she stood up to Gaspard's bullying in the normal course of things, but it was clear she knew she had the upper hand now.

Gaspard gave her an elaborate - perhaps mocking - bow. "Inquisitor," he said, taking leave of me.

I now found myself in possession the focused attention of an empress…and I also found that it felt no more weighty than any other focused attention. Which was to say, it made me feel vaguely itchy, like I wanted to find cover somewhere, but no worse - and I had grown largely accustomed to ignoring the itchy sensation of eyes watching my movements. "Lady Inquisitor," Celene said, "we welcome you to the Winter Palace. Allow us to present our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible."

"What an unexpected pleasure," a new voice said, and were the words a bit dry in tone? "I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities." Since that could not possibly be true - rooms had been set aside for us within the palace, after all - I judged that she was not pleased to see me there. Or perhaps, at least, not pleased to see me there on her brother's arm. "We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor."

A threat? Or something else? Her aura moved away.

"Your arrival is like a cool wind on a summer's day - a pleasure for all of us gathered here," Celene said, recapturing my attention.

"Hopefully not the sort of breeze that heralds a swift summer storm," I replied lightly, and hoped she understood it as the warning I intended.

"Even the wisest may mistake fair winds for foul. We are at the mercy of the skies, Inquisitor," she replied, and her meaning was entirely opaque to me. I was glad Leliana, Josephine, and Vivienne were present to hear it. One or more of them would no doubt explain it if it was important. "How do you find Halamshiral?"

"It would take someone more skilled with words than I to do the city justice," I answered. "I have witnessed a great deal of beauty in my short time here." Most of it in the dogged sense of community displayed in the elven quarter, but she could take it to mean the sights if she liked.

Her voice warmed, though I couldn't trust her sincerity. "Your modesty does you credit, and speaks well for the Inquisition. Please enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance."

That much, at least, I understood: her eyes, or those of her agents, would be on me as I sought to play the Game well enough to gain some advantage for myself and the Inquisition. I bowed low and moved off, making room for whoever might arrive next. Leliana was, thankfully, at my side in an instant, tucking her hand beneath my arm and helping me mount the stairs into the gallery without stumbling.

"What did she mean about mistaking fair winds for foul?" I whispered to Leliana.

My spymaster shook her head. "Only that your concern is misplaced - the same message we have been receiving ever since we sent warning about the assassination," she replied. "She no doubt feels even more secure now that Gaspard has been neutralized. She doesn't know our part in it."

"Naturally," I said. Why would she? The fewer people within the court who knew, the better.

"Circulate for a while," Leliana advised me as we reached the top of the stairs. "Talk to people - and have Josie introduce you to her sister at some point. She won't tell you anything of use regarding politics, but you are guaranteed to see an entirely new side of our ambassador. Find me when you have made your way around the room, and we'll talk about your next steps."

She handed me off to Vivienne, then. "I can plausibly join you for this first circuit, my dear," Vivienne said, nodding and smiling at someone who was only a vague blur, "but afterward you will have to go with a less adept player of the Game, or they will say you are hiding behind our skill. I hope you have a good memory for auras, because you will need to attach names - and preferably titles - to them upon a single introduction."

"I know," I reassured her. "Port set me to memorizing anatomy texts on Leliana's orders. I've been sharpening my memory, and it wasn't terrible before."

She hummed a brief acknowledgment before calling out a greeting to someone she recognized, and I was drawn into the fray.

It was less fraught than I had expected. Part of that was undoubtedly Vivienne's formidable presence shielding me, of course, but I was shocked by how many people had already formed favorable opinions of me. More than half of those I spoke to seemed to have either been acquainted - however distantly - with an officer I had tended in the Dirthavaren, or they knew the family of a fallen soldier whose final words had been found and passed on by one of my scouts. When hints at rabbits or knife-ears began, it was often one of these who neatly slapped down the references with a few cutting words followed by a pointed expression of gratitude directed at me.

For all that I appreciated the defense, the reasons for it made me uncomfortable. I hadn't done anything in the Dirthavaren as some sort of complicated play within the Game, but rather because it had been the right thing to do. But my murmured regrets regarding my inability to do more or arrive earlier only seemed to sharpen the interest of those around me. "Of course it interests them, darling," Vivienne told me - not unkindly - before leaving me at the door to the balcony Briala had apparently claimed as her own portion of the ballroom. "If your motive were a move in the Game, you would say something pious and slip in a few additional references to deeds that had been overlooked. Your palpable embarrassment and sincere attempts to call attention to your own perceived deficiencies tell your listeners that you care. In other circumstances, of course, caring would be an exploitable weakness, but this case is singular and your sincerity is…refreshing to the jaded palate."

"Fenedhis lasa," I muttered in an undertone, realizing that if I truly wished to make people stop praising me for something I hadn't done with praise in mind, I would have to pretend I had done it with praise in mind.

Vivienne was smirking at me. "And now your embarrassment is even more palpable, which I believe means my work is finished."

Damn her - she had explained it to me because she knew I would be even less able to hide my reaction once I understood what was happening. I gave her a pointedly unamused look, and her smile widened slightly. "I fear we must make you an asset regardless of your personal feelings on the matter, darling," she told me, and drifted serenely away before I could think of a reply.

I took a breath and put the matter aside. Briala was outside, and not only was it important to speak with her, I had been looking forward to meeting her for some time.

Her first response, as I approached her, was a laugh. "Oh, sweet Maker - they told me you had come dressed as Shartan, but I did not quite dare believe anyone would have the audacity." I saw the hand she held out to me as I came nearer, and clasped it briefly.

"I'm pleased to meet you at last, Ambassador," I said. "No one has commented on my choice of attire. I was beginning to think that the reference had gone unnoticed."

"Oh no," she replied quickly. "They would not deign to notice. To acknowledge such a move would be to give it power, and they will be desperate to avoid doing so." Her tone was matter-of-fact, without a trace of bitterness, and yet I could taste the bitterness lurking behind it. "No one has so thoroughly confounded the court, I believe, since Celene herself made her play for the throne," Briala went on. "I congratulate you, Inquisitor."

"Yes, well," I huffed a laugh, "it seems unexpectedly easy to do. Having desires and goals that are more important than one's personal power, and pursuing them with a degree of compassion, seems to be enough."

"And you think that easy," Briala said as though marveling at the idea.

"The compassion part isn't always easy," I allowed after a moment of reflection, "but it's not…closing a hole in the sky, or watching the - watching someone die to protect me, or killing a dragon, or staying behind to bury the town that had been my stronghold with no obvious means of escaping death myself. On a scale of the ridiculous things I have to do on at least a weekly basis, it barely even registers."

Briala's eyes were bright behind her mask as she regarded me, and there was a soft thread of amusement in her voice when she spoke: "That was an angle I had not fully appreciated, but I imagine it's very true. I ought to remonstrate with you," she went on, the amusement turning slightly sour. "Your actions with regard to Gaspard have weakened my bargaining position considerably."

"Ir abelas, arani," I replied, somewhat amused myself. "I hope the weight of the Inquisition more or less on your side will be enough to tip the scales in your favor." I sobered. "I don't suppose you have thoughts on who might be working with Tevinter on this matter? Though Gaspard is the obvious prospect, my spymaster has investigated him very thoroughly and found no evidence of close ties to Tevinter. And…he isn't a man who covers his tracks with any great finesse."

One side of her mouth pulled up in a smirk. "He really isn't." Then she paused for a long moment as she thought the question over. "Half the court would be pleased to see Celene fall, but even so, I imagine it needs to be someone close to her. Her handmaidens are extremely loyal, and have no family to threaten except each other, so unless one has taken a secret lover in the time since I've been gone…it likely isn't one of them. Lady Mantillon is one of her closest allies, but she detests Gaspard and values the Game above all things. She isn't likely to work with a foreign power. The Grand Duchess Florianne has been mediating between Celene and Gaspard for years. If she wanted her brother on the throne, she could simply throw in her lot with him." She paused thoughtfully. "There is a new woman in Celene's orbit, however - one I know little about. An apostate mage whom she brought to court to advise her on magical matters. Perhaps you might start there?"

I nodded an acknowledgment. "You asked that I spare Celene's life," I remembered. "Not just because of the threat Gaspard might pose. Why?"

"In many ways, it's well for everyone that there is an elf in your position, and perhaps also that you are Dalish and removed from the politics of city elves and the masters they must serve. At least since you are eager to acknowledge our kinship," she said, sidestepping the question. "Though my love for our people is as free and true as sunlight in summer, I have spent too many years working within a corrupt system to be seen as uncorrupted myself. I will struggle on, but I will never inspire as you have the capacity to do."

I tilted my head, thinking over this tangentially-related answer, and decided that she was telling me that she and Celene were entangled somehow - certainly in the minds of the elves who might be her followers, but likely also in reality. "Inspiration can be useful, but sometimes change requires a stick as well as a carrot."

Briala laughed and swept a bow. "Then I suppose I am pleased, Inquisitor, to act as the stick to your carrot."

It wasn't at all what I had meant, and I blushed - which only made Briala laugh harder.

"Don't let down your guard so with anyone else here tonight," she warned me, though she was still chuckling. "We are too useful to each other for me to hold it against you, but the Game can easily turn on such small missteps."

I nodded, accepting the rebuke. "I will be more wary of those whose goals I respect less," I promised.

Her eyes rested on me for a moment. "Your position is a useful one, but in many ways impossible. I don't envy you the role of enticement, considering how many enticements are eaten in the end. I find I hope you are spared that fate, Inquisitor."

I was both flattered and in complete agreement.