Elissa clenched her jaw on a yawn, staring dispassionately at the half embroidered shirt in her lap. The midwinter celebrations were just a few weeks away, and tradition dictated that the palace give away gifts to Denerim's poorer citizens. As such, Anora had set all her ladies to making clothes. Even at her brightest Elissa despised the work, but after a long night spent discussing their marriage with Loghain her eyes were tired and irritable and focusing on the task was all but impossible.

Still, she only needed to last until midday. After the noon meal Anora had a council meeting to attend and would have no need of her ladies for the rest of the day. Even as she thought it, the queen rose from her seat and the room fell silent as the women turned to stare at her expectantly. She smiled at them graciously and said, "Thank you for your company, ladies, but I believe I will dine privately today."

The women darted glances at each other, alarmed by the unexpected announcement. Dining with the queen was a valuable opportunity to jostle for favour. Monarchs could be generous when relaxed by good food and wine, although Elissa doubted that Anora had ever succumbed to such tactics. Even if they didn't manage to wrest anything tangible from her, the queen could greatly improve a woman's standing merely by inviting her to sit nearby.

Ignoring the consternation she had caused, Anora continued, "You are welcome to remain in the solar, of course, but I will lunch in my private chambers." She turned her back on the many pairs of eyes that watched her closely, searching for a clue as to why she had changed the established schedule, and walked unconcernedly to the door that led to her chambers. Pausing on the threshold between the rooms, she glanced over her shoulder and said, " Would you care to join me, Elissa?"

What little chatter there was died away instantly. While it was by no means unusual for a queen to dine privately with a teyrna, most had assumed that Elissa's marriage to Anora's father had led to some animosity between the two women. Anora had never given her such a signal show of favour before. As she rose to follow the queen, demurely murmuring her gratitude for the invitation, she saw with no small amount of satisfaction that Lady Adelaide's face had drained of colour. Of course she would assume that this confidential meeting would have something to do with her scheming. She was glad that the woman would feel a measure of the fear that she had caused Elissa by stealing the letter.

After the door to the solar was firmly shut and they took their seats Anora graced her with a smile that was almost impish. "They will be out of their minds with curiosity about what's happening in this room. I wouldn't be surprised if they were squabbling over which one of them should press their ear to the door."

Elissa would liked to have argued that they would never be so bold, but she knew better. "Who do you think it will be, your Majesty?"

"Oh, undoubtedly Marianne."

Marianne was the lowest ranking woman of the queen's ladies, and her attempts to elevate her family from its relatively low position were so infamous that Elissa had heard of her even before she left Highever. It was said that her efforts were becoming increasingly ruthless as the years passed without advancement. "I cannot disagree with that judgement."

Servants approached the table, laying down steaming bowls of broth. Elissa's stomach growled appreciatively; this was perfect for so cold a day. As the servants retreated, and she dipped her spoon eagerly into the broth, Anora said, "So, Elissa, how fares your ambition today?" Her eyes were fixed on her bowl but Elissa hadn't missed the swift, appraising look the queen had sent her before lowering her gaze.

"No different from yesterday, your Majesty," she replied steadily.

"Why is that?" Anora asked, abandoning the pretext of eating. "Most people at court would , quite literally, kill for a chance to wear my crown, but not you. I am truly intrigued."

Elissa set her spoon down, resigned to the fact that she would not be eating for some time. How to explain her lack of ambition to a woman whose ambition was a vital part of her nature? "I have always been content with my life," she began hesitantly. Her parents had always been happy to remain at Highever, away from the vicious machinations of the court, and their children followed in their footsteps. "Highever was always everything I needed."

"Yet you left it," said Anora bluntly.

"I always knew I must," she said, resisting the urge to add that Anora must have known as much when she was a young girl. It was the fate of many nobles to leave the beloved homes of their childhood. As the second born she had always known that, short of an awful tragedy, Highever would be her brother's and she would have to leave it to marry into another family.

"And is a teyrnir and my father a fitting substitute?"

"I was raised to run a teyrnir. Before I came to court I found the work at Gwaren satisfying. As to your father... Ours is not a perfect union. I'm beginning to suspect that none are. But I believe that given time we could form a strong partnership, and I would not forsake that for the chance to be queen."

Even as she said it she realised she spoke the truth. If she had not believed that Loghain was committed to their marriage then she would have flung the necklace back at him rather than store it safely in her jewellery box where she could look at it whenever she wished. Just that morning, after Loghain had left to seek out Cailan, she had opened the lid to stare down at their combined devices and contemplate what had prompted her husband to do it.

Anora studied her intently, her expression almost wistful. "I must confess to being envious."

"Envious? Of what?"

"Your... feelings for my father play at least some part in preventing you from striving for my throne. I wish I knew what that felt like."

"Don't you care for Cailan?" she blurted. It was perhaps not the wisest question to ask, but this was not a conversation she had ever expected to have with the queen and she had no idea how to proceed.

Anora seemed unperturbed. "Care for him? Certainly. But I have never had to set my affection for him against my ambition. If he had not been destined to be king, I cannot say that I would have chosen him over a crown."

Elissa stared at her in silence, too shocked for words. The queen was famous for sharing very little of what she thought and felt, and this unprompted bout of sharing was completely out of character. Perhaps Anora realised that she had divulged too much for she said suddenly, "But this can be of very little interest to you and I am in danger of forgetting why I wished to speak to you. Although I still have not been informed of the details, you performed a great service for me. I would like you to have a reward."

Surprised by the sudden change of topic Elissa hesitated for a moment before replying, "You have already rewarded me, your Majesty."

Anora waved her hand impatiently. "Come now, Elissa, a single conversation is hardly a fitting payment. I would like to reward you materially."

She opened her mouth to refuse but hesitated with the words on the tip of her tongue. An image of Meryl sprang to her mind. So far the servant had proved valuable, and her suggestion of The Pearl showed that she possessed a measure of cunning. It would pay to keep her close by. She was sure Meryl would prefer life as a lady's maid to that of a general servant. The hours were shorter, the tasks lighter and the pay greater. "There is one thing, your Majesty. I still have not employed a lady's maid. There is a palace servant who has been particularly attentive towards me. I would like her for the job."

If Anora felt any suspicion about the services Meryl had performed for Elissa she gave no sign of it. "I would say that is the least I could do for you." She called for a servant and, after having Elissa give a description of Meryl, dispatched her to find the woman and inform her of her new position.

After that afternoon their private lunches became a daily occurrence, much to the ire of the queen's other ladies. Her increasing closeness to Anora wrought a change in their behaviour. Outwardly they were more ingratiating than ever, but for all their overtures of friendship she felt she could trust them even less than before.

Each of her lunches with the queen began in the same way, with Anora quizzing Elissa on the state of her ambition. When she replied that it was unchanged, as she invariably did, the queen seemed satisfied and moved on. There was never a repeat of the first day's outburst, no more startling confessions from the woman who usually spoke so guardedly. In her less charitable moments Elissa wondered whether that intimate conversation had been a calculated display to win her trust. Her suspicions would have been confirmed beyond doubt had Anora ever asked anything of her but she never did. Most of the time the queen spoke on neutral, even dull, topics. She almost always asked Elissa's opinion of whichever woman was vying particularly hard for favour, probably because she had no one else to consult. In the solar, where neither Loghain nor Cailan ever ventured, Elissa was the closest thing she had to an advisor.

When she was not attending the queen, Elissa's time was largely consumed by Loghain. He seemed determined to prove his sincerity, and he began the day after their confrontation by helping her choose someone to act as her representative to Sanga. It was clear he disapproved of such a long term, dangerous arrangement but, knowing why she had not approached him for help, he kept his opinions to himself. They chose her intermediary together, selecting a merchant who stocked affordable gowns and jewellery. It would not look amiss, they reasoned, if Sanga visited his shop. So far The Pearl's proprietor had not abused her new patron's generosity, asking only that she pay the cost of hiring a new guard to dispense with rowdy patrons, to which she had readily agreed. She had thought that Sanga would be too clever to anger a powerful ally, but until a few weeks passed with no further word from The Pearl she worried daily about blackmail.

As she had no council position she was not allowed to attend their meetings, but Loghain began to share more and more of what was discussed with her. At first she just listened. She might know the theory of politics from books and lessons, but in Highever she'd had very little chance to apply her knowledge. Grudgingly she was forced to admit that Loghain had been right: she could be far too rash and impulsive. Not every problem could be solved with daring chases and sneaking out of the palace by moonlight. So she listened and, as she learned more, began to analyse Loghain's opinions and advance her own. She found herself wanting to seek Anora's view but held back, worried that the queen would see it as some sort of encroachment on her power.

Unlike his daughter, Loghain did not probe daily to see if her opinion had altered. He was patient, more so than she ever could have been in his position, seeming content for her to warm to him in her own time. Warm to him she did, bit by bit, as days stretched into weeks. Every time he returned to their chambers to discuss the day's issues he earned more of her trust. At first she was sceptical, convinced he only sought to curry her favour, but he seemed genuinely interested in her perspective. He certainly didn't always agree with it, but he always elicited her thoughts and discussed them frankly.

To Elissa's delight, there was also a shift in intimate matters between them. Even though they shared a bed every night, Loghain often seemed uncomfortable when she made affectionate gestures towards him during the day. Even small things, resting her head on his shoulder or her hand on his knee, made his back stiffen. After the night of their discussion he began to relax into her touches. She was thrilled with the development until realising that he probably only tolerated it for her sake. This in mind, she ceased the caresses. Rather than being pleased with her withdrawal, as she had expected, Loghain began to instigate small, tender gestures. They never came when they were discussing problems raised at council meetings, but after they had set aside the prominent issues of the kingdom until morning. As they sat by the fire and talked or pored over books or maps he would stroke the nape of her neck or rest his lips against her hair. She puzzled over why, if he enjoyed touching and being touched, he had always seemed so uncomfortable before.

As midwinter approached, and the palace began to prepare for the celebration, she was confined less and less to the solar. The winter solstice was an important occasion. The warmth and life of the spring were still out of reach, but midwinter marked the return of the sun and gradual lengthening of the days. The queen threw herself into preparations for the midwinter celebrations in part, Elissa suspected, to keep her mind from following unpleasant paths. She might allow herself to relax slightly in Elissa's company, but it seemed that Anora couldn't shake the suspicions planted by Eamon's ploy. In public she gave no sign of her uneasiness, but when Elissa and Loghain were invited to dine privately with the royal couple she noticed that Anora watched her husband speculatively, as if trying to fathom what thoughts passed behind his easy going smile.

If Anora did indeed hope to distract herself with work then she succeeded spectacularly. Every morning the queen and her ladies scoured the main hall, covered it in greenery and colourful ribbons and made the decorations that would brighten the tables during the feast. A lot of the women grumbled that it was servants' work but Elissa, reminded of the annual festivities at Highever, enjoyed it.

A few days before the celebrations, Elissa came to a decision. Midwinter would be the day she wore the necklace Loghain had given her. In the past weeks he had gone out of his way to prove himself, sharing information with her that the council would be horrified to learn had travelled outside its chambers. Although she knew it must gall him not to act, he never interfered in her arrangement with Sanga unless she asked it. Their marriage was developing beyond the discussion of tactics and the affairs of the kingdom, the affection between them gradually deepening. Perhaps it had not yet developed into love, but she suspected that it never would until they both wore the combined Cousland and Gwaren heraldry.

When midwinter finally arrived she spent the afternoon before the grand feast driving Meryl to distraction. As she had predicted, the servant was happy in her new position. Not only were her duties lighter, the necessity of being close to her mistress at all times meant that she was allowed to move to her own room in the noble servant's quarters. It might be a small chamber but it was warm and comfortable and she shared it with no one. The drawback of her new role was having to work with Elissa at her most anxious, digging out gowns and jewellery from the deepest part of her chest only to put them back again when her mistress changed her mind.

After much deliberation, and many changes of dress, Elissa chose the red gown she had worn at the oath giving ceremony in Gwaren. She had thought of wearing the dress she had been married in, but the red gown seemed much more appropriate. At her wedding she had felt rather lost, uncertain of how she would fit in with Gwaren and the stranger she was marrying. At the oath giving Loghain had shown that he had faith in her and stood at her side in silent support of her as the new teyrna. She hoped he might realise the significance of her choice. Even if he did not, red – the promise of light in darkness – was fitting for midwinter.

Meryl helped her into the gown and then secured her hair in a thick plait, weaving two scarlet ribbons into it. Once dressed, she seated herself at her dresser and reached for her unworn necklace. She had placed it in the jewellery box sent to her by Fergus. It seemed fitting: Loghain's token housed in a gift from Highever. She opened the lid and stared down at the necklace nestled in its satin lining. Her fingers hovered over the pendant, barely brushing the cool silver. Loghain had given her no reason to doubt his words. Still she feared that wearing his gift would somehow make her vulnerable. Chiding herself, she snatched it up and fastened it around her neck. For a long moment she sat still, staring into the mirror watching the silver glint against her skin. She wondered how Loghain would react when he saw it there.

"My lady?" said Meryl, a hint of concern in her voice.

Elissa shook herself. "I was woolgathering. I'm sorry for keeping you so long, Meryl. You must go and join the celebrations."

"You won't need me, my Lady?"

"I'm sure I can look after myself until tomorrow."

Meryl smiled and bobbed a curtsey before hurrying away, no doubt to the feast or another gathering in the city. Elissa stole a final glance in the mirror, eyes drawn inexorably to the necklace, before following Meryl from the room.

Loghain was waiting for her at the entrance to the main hall. He was talking to a man she recognised from the oath giving, a minor noble who probably had a local matter to discuss with his lord. At the sound of her approach Loghain cut the conversation short, promising to seek out the man in the morning. He turned to face her, eyebrows raised at her lateness, and said, "You have finally decided to join us." His smirk faded as his eyes fell on the necklace. Wordlessly he reached out to touch it but his hand faltered, shying from what would be an inappropriate gesture in such a public place. Unconcerned, she grasped his hand and placed it over the pendant.

"I wished to look my best," she said softly.

He smiled, the pad of his thumb tracing the place where silver met skin . She shivered, the caress raising goosepimples over her arms, and his grin widened. "You do."

Behind them someone coughed pointedly. He dropped his hand, frustration flashing briefly in his eyes, and turned to face the intruder. Elissa felt her smile freeze in place as she saw Arl Howe. She'd had no idea that the arl was in the capital. Seeing him unexpectedly was unpleasant enough, but having him intrude on such an intimate moment made her skin crawl. As he stared at her knowingly she had to resist the urge to cover herself with her arms.

"I see you have found your lovely wife, Loghain," he drawled. Although he spoke to Loghain he kept his eyes fixed on her. She bristled at being addressed in such a manner but, as she had been taught, bit her tongue and forced herself to smile sweetly.

Perhaps he resented having the moment interrupted, or perhaps he cared for the way Howe looked at Elissa as little as she did, but Loghain responded with uncustomary coolness. "So I have. You will excuse us, we're late." So saying, he offered her his arm and brushed past the arl without a second glance.

Elissa did happen to look back at Howe. His smirk had vanished, his mouth now twisted in an expression of deep contempt. As he caught her eye, the anger in his face fell away and was replaced by his former slick smile. "Perhaps we can talk later," he called after them.

She was relieved to see that although Howe followed them to the hall he quickly went his own way to find his seat. As rulers of a teyrnir they were entitled to sit at the head table with the king and queen, but an arl was not. He was driven from her thoughts completely as Cailan greeted them with his customary enthusiasm, slapping Loghain on the shoulder and seizing Elissa in a hug. Anora glared at him pointedly not, Elissa hoped, because the display of affection had unsettled her but because of her husband's general lack of decorum.

Whatever the reason, Cailan seemed not to notice. "How fares my mother this evening?"

"I am not your mother!" she whispered furiously, a smile tugging at her lips. Once he had learned how to goad her he had not let it rest. She knew he would grow tired of it if she stopped rising to the bait but she found she enjoyed the gentle bickering too much. It put her in mind of a younger Fergus. Besides which, she hoped that Anora would cease to think Cailan would marry her if he continued to address her as his mother.

The king clutched his chest as if mortally wounded. "You are so dreadfully cruel to me. I should not have bought you a present." He narrowed his eyes, glowering at the rubies glittering at her ears.

"You should not," she agreed in complete seriousness. When he had presented her with the earrings her heart had almost stopped at the thought of how Anora would interpret the gift. It was only when she learned that they were a present from both the king and queen, and that they had also gifted Loghain with a sapphire ring, that she had calmed down. "I am entirely unworthy, your Majesty."

"Oh, hush," he said impatiently. "They look well on you."

"Indeed they do," said Anora, brow furrowing, "but I believe our guests would prefer to spend their time eating rather than watching us bicker over jewellery."

"Quite right, Anora," said Cailan immediately, and offered her his arm to escort her to the head table. Elissa and Loghain followed them, taking seats at the queen's side. When everyone was seated and people at the lower tables turned their eyes to the king, Cailan gave the order for the feasting to commence.

The banquet surpassed any she had experienced before. The food was largely of Ferelden origin (most of the nobles wouldn't tolerate anything else) but there were several Antivan dishes and even a few from Orlais. She had thought that she would be expected to set an example by refraining from eating anything even vaguely Orlesian, but Cailan tucked in with gusto and she decided to follow suit. The most spectacular part of the banquet came when the desserts were brought from the kitchen. The cooks had outdone themselves, creating a magnificent sugar sculpture replica of the palace. No one would dream of ruining it by cutting into it but there were many delicious sweets that they could eat. Throughout the night there was, of course, a free flow of spiced wine to warm them.

Cailan had hired a plethora of entertainment. Musicians and tumblers entertained them while they ate and after the last plates had been cleared away a troupe of players acted out the stories often told at midwinter. When even they tired, and most people had retired to their chambers for the night, Cailan insisted that the few guests who remained draw their chairs around the fire. Made sleepy by wine and too much food, they dragged themselves reluctantly from their seats to comply with his request. Once everyone was seated to his satisfaction he called forth an old woman who had passed the night largely unnoticed. Elissa wondered whether she had worked in the royal nursery when the king was a boy. She was clearly not a noble but, even though Elissa had never seen her work, the palace was her home and its kitchens provided her with as much food as she wished.

At Cailan's urging the woman took the seat next to his. Although it wasn't necessary, as most were too sleepy for conversation, he pleaded for quiet. When the drowsy murmuring had died away he turned to the woman eagerly and nodded. She began to speak. Elissa had heard only a few words before realising that her guess had been correct: this was a woman from Cailan's childhood, someone who had enthralled him with centuries old legends. She spoke of the great king Calenhad, Flemeth the witch and Elissa's own ancestor, Sarim, the first Cousland to rule Highever. She relayed stories of demons that could creep unnoticed into mage's minds and turn them into monsters, of wild witches that could take the form of wolves and crows. Elissa had heard these tales many times before. Although she had no memory of it, she was certain that her parents must have first whispered them to her while she lay in the cradle because she couldn't recall a time when she didn't know them. But listening to them now, spoken in this woman's captivating voice, she could almost imagine she was hearing them for the first time.

The candles had been allowed to gutter out and the room was only lit by the fire. In the dim light Elissa heard rather than saw Loghain rise from his chair. She turned and squinted, trying to see where he had gone, but it wasn't until his hand landed on her shoulder that she realised he stood behind her. Her attention gained, he motioned for her to follow him. She rose as quietly as she could, delicately picking her way around the few drowsy people who remained. As he led her into a part of the room where the shadows grew deeper, she kept her hand on his arm lest she lose him. When he continued to say nothing she began to worry. It was unlike him to creep around silently, and she couldn't help but wonder whether something was wrong. Perhaps something had happened and he wished to draw her away from everyone else to break the news.

It was on the tip of the tongue to ask what was wrong but before she could speak he stopped abruptly, turning to face her. She could see very little of his face, nowhere near enough to read his expression, but his touch was urgent. He encircled her waist with his arm, urging her closer, and cupped her cheek to angle her face upwards. His lips descended on hers in a kiss more intense than she had ever known. While her mind froze in surprise her body responded, arching into him in an effort to get as close as possible. She moaned into his mouth, not caring that she might be heard, and his grip on her waist tightened.

When they parted he bowed his head, resting his lips just above her ear. "Thank you," he murmured, voice too low to carry back to the people crowded around the fire. Repeating his earlier gesture, he placed his hand over her pendant and she raised her own hand to cover it. She leaned into him, grateful for the darkness that concealed her flushed cheeks and exhilarated smile. She could not have dreamed when she first slid the necklace around her neck that he would react so enthusiastically.

When she was certain that her voice would not shake she whispered, "I am glad to see that this," she squeezed his hand lightly around the pendant, "means as much to you as it does to me."

"As am I." He traced the design with his finger. "I did not do this lightly."

"Neither do I wear it lightly."

"Why do you wear it?"

She shook her heard firmly then, realising that he probably couldn't see the gesture, said, "That is a discussion for our bedchamber, not the hall."

She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest. "You are right. I will make our excuses to Anora and Cailan and we shall leave."

"I will wait here for you. Don't keep me waiting too long."

He bent swiftly and kissed her. It was briefer than their first kiss but fuelled by the same heat, and it silently promised that their parting was only temporary. "I wouldn't dream of it." Straightening, he stepped around her and walked briskly back to the fire.

She waited in the shadows, smoothing invisible creases from her gown as she listened to Loghain's fading footsteps. It seemed that less than a minute passed before she felt movement at her side. She turned with a smile, opening her mouth to comment on Loghain's swiftness, but something in the barely visible figure's stance alerted her to the fact that it wasn't her husband. A polite excusal forming on her lips, she took a step back. There was the rustle of fabric and movement glimpsed in the darkness, then something touched her. A finger landed on her throat, brushing gently over the place where her pulse thrummed wildly beneath her skin. The gesture could almost have been mistaken for tender if not for the unmistakeable malice she felt from the stranger. It kept her frozen in place, horrified by the threatening caress, before she came to her senses. Choking back a revolted cry, she swiped at the stranger but both the hand and its owner had withdrawn and she was alone again. She stood for a moment, swaying, before turning and almost running back to the fire.