"When the final result is expected to be a compromise, it is often prudent to start from an extreme position."
The Economic Consequences of the Peace ~ John Maynard Keynes
"It's north of Halamshiral, off the Imperial Highway," Cullen insisted. "We can make the stop when we go to the Winter Palace."
He cut a dramatic figure, Evelyn noticed, as he leaned over the War Table, his hands splayed over Ferelden and Orlais.
"I'm departing tomorrow." Evelyn crossed her arms. The decision was final.
"It doesn't make sense! You are going to waste several days going and returning, only to depart almost immediately once you get back!"
They had been having same runaround argument since Cullen had pointed out the location Cole had indicated on the map to her earlier.
"You are recovering from an injury— the last thing you should be doing is riding a horse on uneven terrain," he pointed out.
"First, I will ride in the carriage. Second, I will not be fussed over. I am not irresponsible or impulsive!" she said, frustrated.
"First," he mimicked her, equally frustrated, "a carriage with the Inquisition's heraldry might as well be a beacon calling out to all highwaymen—or worse, Venatori— over some very isolated stretches of road. Second—"
"A carriage filled with Solas, Varric, Cole, and myself!" she swiftly interrupted. "I almost feel a bit sorry for the foolish attackers who try to ambush us! We're hardly a caravan of grandmotherly dowagers, Cullen!"
"Will you let me finish?" he asked her, exasperated. She pressed her lips. "I was going to say I never meant to imply that I do not find you capable of making such decisions, nor was I fussing over you. I trust your judgment. I am merely doing my job— the duty entrusted to me as your advisor."
"And I've heard your advice, and appreciate it, but I need to resolve this matter as soon as possible," she said in a curt, formal tone.
"Permission to speak freely, Inquisitor," he requested with great ceremony.
Evelyn grimaced. They weren't getting anywhere.
"Go ahead, Commander," she arched a wary eyebrow.
"You're going to make me ill with worry," he exhaled. "You are still in pain, you are vulnerable—I don't like it," he said gently.
To his surprise, she walked away wordlessly, headed for the doorway. He thought for a moment she was going to march off in a huff, but instead she peeked outside into the hallway and then shut the door to the War Room quietly. She approached him, and lifting a hand to his cheek, delicately kissed him.
"Have a little faith, Commander." She encircled his neck with her arms. He embraced her waist, tugging her closer to him.
"You know I count myself among the faithful," he murmured softly in her ear. "It's the only way I can bear watching the woman I love hurl herself into precipices and time rifts…"
Shea tingle ran up her neck.
"Then a compromise," she offered appeasingly, peering into his warm light brown eyes.
"I'm listening," he said.
"An unmarked carriage…a small detail— two soldiers riding ahead, two behind."
He took a troubled breath and she waited for him to respond, observing him as he pondered her words.
"That would be better," he admitted. "I still don't like this trip at all… But they're adequate precautions."
"Then I'll let the others know about tomorrow."
"A day—or two. I need to check on something first: Leliana had requisitioned the unmarked carriage for an operative of hers."
"Fine," she agreed.
He stared at her, relief visible in his expression.
Everything outside that door pulls at us, demanding our attention—always so much to attend to, she realized sadly. There's never enough time.
"Permission to speak freely, Commander," she stated in her stiffest impersonation of a soldier.
He chuckled lightly.
"Granted."
"I love you, too," she whispered tenderly.