Chapter Nine: A Grand Finale
Rosalie and Bull didn't fetch anyone else for backup to sneak into the Royal Wing. It didn't feel necessary. Her skill and experience as a bard made finding her way around the off-limits areas of a palace easy enough, and Bull was capable of making most guards shit their pants with a look.
There hadn't been much trouble so far. One of Briala's agents had almost gotten herself killed by a Venatori but Rosalie managed to shove him out of a window before he could, much to Bull's amusement. Now Briala's agent had gone to find safety with Commander Cullen having told them all she knew, and the duo were back to searching.
As she picked up a letter from the desk in the room, Rosalie gave in to the urge to reach up and adjust the mask on her face. She hadn't had to wear one in a few months, and apparently her skin had gotten used to the freedom of not having one.
Seeming to sense her discomfort, Bull asked, "What's with the masks anyway? Just fashion? Most of them don't cover up enough of the face to hide people's expressions, and they don't seem like the kind of thing you'd wear for comfort."
Rosalie knew Bull had been in the south long enough to have learned that already. If he was asking her about it, it was most likely to poke her to get her talking about what was really bothering her.
She kept her eyes on what she was reading as she answered, though she'd already dismissed the letter as unimportant. "It's a way to show your family and your class. Even the servants wear them to show which house they serve. This one identifies me as a ward of Mathis Travére. Oh, and wearing a mask that isn't yours is a capital offense, so I'd thank you to keep quiet that this is Lila's. I don't think they'd hang the only person with a hand that can close rifts, but I'd rather not find out."
"You didn't think you'd have to wear one again, huh?" Bull noted. Right as always.
She set down the letter. "This is the last time." She said it so firmly it was almost like a promise to herself.
"Understood." Bull's lips twitched in amusement before he asked, "Blindfolds are still allowed though, right?"
It was impossible not to smile in spite of her mood and their current location. "Right." At that, she pushed away from the desk and walked down the narrow servant's corridor that led from the room.
"Sounds like a bad guy, this Mathis Travére," Bull said quietly, moving to follow her.
"Sneaking behind closed doors at parties is part of a bard's job more often than not. The things some of these people keep under lock and key…" She paused to shudder. "Mathis doesn't have any slaves chained up in his basement or children waiting in his bed like some people I could mention at this party. He would tell you he's a good Andrastian and few would argue."
"But you would?" Bull guessed.
Her first instinct was to shake her head vehemently, but something stopped her. "Ten years ago, refugees from Ferelden poured across the border. Most of them didn't have more than the clothes on their backs. There wasn't enough food for them. Not enough work. Most of them ended up begging for scraps or working in brothels. My sister and I were fourteen. We had nothing. He saved us. No one else would have done that."
"Never let you forget it though."
Her feet stilled. She knew what he was doing because she'd done it to others herself. Usually it was easier to gently nudge people into talking about themselves than it was to interrogate them. Being aware of it didn't stop her speaking though. Bull was the person she'd agreed to be not the Inquisitor around, after all, and she felt more comfortable telling him than anyone else.
"When you're that young and your bard master tells you to seduce a Chevalier or to steal someone's prized possessions, even to kill their servants as a warning… You do it. And worse. You don't even think. You do anything to please him because he is your whole world. Everything you trust, everything you are right down to your name is because of him." She turned to look up at him in that moment, curious if he'd heard anything that sounded familiar to him.
Bull's expression softened and he leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. As he straightened, he let out a soft sigh, and said, "You know, bo–"
"–You painted Orlesian arseholes!" a voice cut across him suddenly. It sounded Fereldan, and quite irate. "When I get out of this, I'll butcher you like the pigs you are!"
Neither Rosalie nor Bull needed to say a word. They just shared a look, then sprinted in the direction of that voice.
A moment later Bull was heaving open a set of heavy double doors, and the two ran out into a private courtyard. The moment they realized they were surrounded by archers, the door slammed shut behind them. The source of the voice seemed to be a man who'd been tied up - the Mercenary Captain they'd been sent to find, Rosalie guessed.
Truly, neither the archers or the mercenary captain were her main concern just then. A few feet above the ground, a rift was brewing, sparks of green magic spreading out from it along with that familiar hum that Rosalie was always half listening for these days. Just as when she came close to any rift, the mark on her hand let out a little burst of magic and began to glow, awakening a tingly ache that spread all the way up her arm. There was no hiding her true identity now.
"Ah, so here we have the true Inquisitor," Grand Duchess Florianne's voice came from where she was positioned on a balcony, looking down on them. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Trevelyan. I wasn't certain you'd attend. You were such a challenge to read on the dance floor, I had no idea I was addressing a double."
Rosalie didn't bother mentioning that it had been her on the dance floor. "I fear I'm a bit busy at the moment, if you were looking for a dance with the true Inquisitor."
The woman looked far too pleased with herself as she answered, "Yes, I see that. It was kind of you to walk into my trap so willingly. Corypheus insisted that the Empress die tonight, and I would hate to disappoint him."
"At this point, I'd think disappointment was an old friend." If Rosalie sounded confident, it was only because she was backed into a corner with no choice but to fight. Well, and because Bull was fighting at her side. That always made it easier to feign confidence even when the odds were stacked against them.
"You poor, deluded thing," Florianne scoffed. "You don't know half of what Samson and I have planned. And now, I suppose you never will. In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I will assassinate Celene myself. All I need is to keep you - the real you - out of the ballroom long enough to strike. A pity you'll miss the rest of the ball, Inquisitor. They'll be talking of it for years."
While the woman spoke, Rosalie focused on reaching her hands into the hidden folds beneath her skirt to grip the hilts of the daggers that were strapped to her thighs. When she drew them, Florianne abruptly stopped speaking and instead nodded to her men in the courtyard below.
"Kill her and bring me her marked hand. It will make a fine gift for the master."
At that, Florianne made a swift exit, the rift burst open, and it was time for Rosalie and Bull to fight for their lives.
Leliana carefully watched the Inquisitor from across the room, feeling that something was amiss. The woman had left the ballroom seemingly in a panic, then returned looking calmer and more relaxed than ever. Not to mention she seemed to take a moment to recognize Josephine when the ambassador came to speak with her, and had walked right past Vivienne without even checking in with the woman. Strange.
Of course, it was no secret to the spymaster that Rosalie had a twin sister, and that Mathis had trained the pair of them to impersonate one another easily. Besides, she had played the Game for far too long to dismiss niggling doubts as simple paranoia. The fact that Mathis was nowhere to be seen now only made her more suspicious.
She made her way to the Inquisitor's side in a calm, casual manner, being sure to stop and make smalltalk with some of the other guests along the way, her smile warm and friendly all the while. If it took a few minutes to reach her destination, it was only because the place was becoming quite crowded with most of the guests drifting back to the ballroom in anticipation of Empress Celene's speech.
"Leliana!" the Inquisitor said with a bright smile once the spymaster reached her side. The recognition proved nothing. Leliana was known at court, after all, and the Inquisitor's party had been announced upon arrival.
"You've more colour in your cheeks now, Inquisitor. Some fresh air must have done you good, no?" Leliana asked.
"Absolutely. And the guest wing courtyard is quite lovely." The woman brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face, and Leliana noticed the telltale line at her temple where a mask's tie had been digging into the skin.
The spymaster affected a wistful sigh. "When this is over, we'll have to go there and share a bottle of Rowan's Rose like we did in Haven after you closed the breach, yes?"
The other woman smiled warmly. "I'd like that."
Well that confirmed Leliana's suspicions. "I was wondering… Might we speak in private for a moment, Inquisitor? A rather urgent matter has recently come to my attention."
"Of course," came the reply, and the two stepped outside. It didn't take long to find an empty balcony to head to, since so many were flocking back to the ballroom by this point in the evening.
"We shouldn't stay out here too long," the impostor warned. "We don't know when–"
Leliana interrupted the sentence by abruptly drawing her dagger and holding it to the woman's throat. "You're Lila."
Lila closed her eyes and sighed. "You and Rosalie never shared a bottle of wine in Haven."
"No." She shoved Lila back against the wall and pressed the dagger in a little closer as she growled, "Now start talking."
"My sister went to investigate Gaspard's mercenary captain on a tip from the Grand Duchess," Lila answered calmly. Mathis had trained her well that her voice stayed calm and clear even when her life was on the line. "We swapped outfits in the hopes that seeing the Inquisitor in the ballroom would discourage the assassin."
"How do I know my Inquisitor is not tied up in a storage closet somewhere in her small clothes?"
Lila swallowed, eyeing the dagger carefully. "I don't think that's giving your Inquisitor enough credit. Besides, whether I'm lying or telling the truth, the fact remains that while we're out of sight, the Empress is in more danger." Then she looked Leliana in the eyes as her tone softened. "Please. We're on the same side and we don't have much time."
Leliana glared fiercely, aware that either Rosalie knew what she was doing or Mathis had outplayed them both. Either way, there was little she could do about it now, though she wasn't about to admit that. "Don't think that uniform or that pretty face will protect you if you do anything to harm our cause. If you make me regret sparing you, I will make you regret ever daring to put on that uniform."
"I'm on Rosalie's side, I will swear it in blood if you ask me to," Lila assured the spymaster.
Leliana let out a bitter, mocking laugh as she sheathed her dagger. "This is the Grand Game, Miss Avery. The only side anyone's on is their own."
Bull watched Rosalie drop to her knees and let out a frustrated scream as the rift slammed shut. The fight had been brutal with just the two of them, and far more was at stake than just their lives. Without taking a moment to catch her breath, Rosalie rose to her feet and rushed to the door. Finding it barred from the other side, she just kicked it and rushed to look for another exit. Time was short and they had to find a way to get to the Empress in time.
She was wound tighter than he'd ever seen her before, her shoulders stiff and her spine rigid. There was an endless list of things he could try in bed to help that tension dissipate, but there was very little he could for her right now: a realization that made him feel oddly helpless.
Rosalie's dress was torn and the way her hair had half escaped from its twisted updo might have made it look like he'd just taken her roughly up against the wall if it wasn't for the blood spatters too. Bull doubted he looked any better. He was already aware of a torn sleeve flapping against his arm, a bloody cut on his leg and several missing buttons from the front of his uniform.
It didn't help that Florianne had more of her agents waiting for them in the servant's corridor they followed out of the courtyard. It seemed they had no choice but to fight their way back to the Empress.
They knew they were close to the ballroom when they started to hear the music again. Turning a corner, they came to a set of double doors that seemed sure to lead back to the ballroom, judging by the volume of the noises they could hear. The only problem was the lone man standing in their way. The one who made Rosalie gasp and draw to a halt.
His hair was swept back into a queue with not one lock out of place and he stood with a rigid spine, hands clasped together behind his back. He spared Bull a disdainful glance, but otherwise stayed focused on Rosalie.
There were two things Bull could tell about the guy right away. First: he was confident that Rosalie wouldn't attack him. Second: Rosalie knew him, and pretty well if Bull was any judge.
He'd have bet money it was the bard master even before Rosalie sighed out the name, "Mathis."
"Not Master? Times have changed, haven't they, my dear," he said blandly, sounding bored with the conversation already. "I was hoping you would at least remember how to present yourself without me to guide you, but…" He gestured to the ruined gown Rosalie was wearing. "Never you fret, my dear. Your sister has taken your place. All you need do is wait here while things resolve themselves, hmm?"
"You're working with Florianne," Rosalie concluded, and Bull heard a note of heartbreak in her voice. If her Master had been on Corypheus' side from the start, it meant she had as well.
"Hardly," he sniffed. "But it wasn't difficult to figure out what she was up to. If the woman is going to go out of her way to get herself killed tonight, she might as well take Celene with her. Gaspard is the true Emperor of Orlais, whom you and I both swore to serve before this war even began." His tone grew more stern, as he asked, "Or had you forgotten?"
Rosalie didn't seem to know what to say in response to that, and Bull stayed silent as he waited for her to give him some kind of clue to let him know if she wanted his help telling this guy to go fuck himself.
"Your sister hasn't forgotten. She's played her part admirably, in fact. Should Florianne's attempt on the Celene's life fail, she is already in place so that 'the Inquisitor' can finish the job. Though I'm surprised you fell for her concerned sister act. I did warn you in my letter that I would intervene if you refused to do as you were told."
Rosalie bravely pointed her dagger at the man, but Bull was sure Mathis would see the way her arm trembled or the way she had to clench her jaw to keep her voice from shaking. Bull certainly hadn't missed it. "Move," she said stiffly.
"Please," he scoffed, pushing her dagger aside and stepping in close to touch a hand to her cheek. "You are my creature. I made you what you are. You could never turn your blade on me. Let's stop this silliness and find you something else to wear, hmm?" the man's voice was soft, caring even, but that didn't make it any less painful for Bull to watch.
Unable to stay out of it anymore, especially considering what was at stake, Bull settled a hand on her shoulder, and asked in that deep, rumbling voice that always made her toes curl when they were alone, "Is this guy bothering you, boss?"
He felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as she gave her former bard master a venomous look, then stepped back from him. "Yes."
That was all Bull needed. In the next moment his fist connected with Mathis' face, cracking the mask he wore with a punch that knocked him clean off his feet.
Rosalie didn't even spare a glance for the man now groaning on the floor. "Let's go."
"Let all gathered attend, her Imperial Majesty will now address the court," the announcer was saying, just as Rosalie and Bull stepped into the now crowded ballroom. They weren't too late, Rosalie noted, much to her relief. There was little time though.
"No way I'll get close to them through all these people without getting everyone's attention," Bull leaned down to murmur in Rosalie's ear.
"I'll see what I can do," she whispered back, then started to weave her way into the crowd.
"My friends, we have lost much," the Empress began once all eyes were upon her. There were a few disapproving tsks and incredulous stares as Rosalie pushed through. It was disrespectful not to stand still and listen when the Empress was speaking, and on an ordinary day could easily have landed her in the stocks. Matters were too urgent to worry about that right now.
"We have each seen a child, a lover, a friend consigned to the flames. Darkness has closed in around us, but even now there is light," the Empress continued. "We must be that light. We must lead our people safely through these troubled times. We must be their guiding star."
The words brought on a round of applause, and Celene gestured for Florianne to join her on the stage. "Tonight, the war dividing us must end," she said finally.
As Florianne stepped onto the stage, some movement on the opposite side of the ballroom caught Rosalie's eye. It was Lila, still posing as the Inquisitor. She was also making her way towards the Empress with hurried steps, a drawn dagger in hand, her path mirroring Rosalie's.
Maker, no… All Rosalie could think in that moment was that she would lose her sister. Even if Celene died and Gaspard took the throne, Celene's assassin would not be spared the punishment for treason. Her path through the crowd became a slightly more desperate one, involving more pushing and shoving, but already she could tell that she wasn't likely to intercept in time.
"My friends, we are here to witness a historic moment," Florianne began. "A great change is coming for all of us." From where she stood, Rosalie could see a flash of silver as Florianne drew a knife and moved in behind the Empress. "Isn't that right, Gaspard?"
Rosalie could only watch as in the next moment, Lila - the Inquisitor to everyone else's eyes - rushed in from the side and threw herself into the Empress. Whatever happened next brought on horrified shrieks from the crowd, but from her angle, Rosalie couldn't see it for herself. Not until Celene's guards barrelled forwards to rush her to safety. That gave Rosalie a clear view of Lila looking paler than ever as she stumbled back, clutching a wound in her side.
"Lila!" Rosalie gasped, so overwhelmed with concern that all she could think to do was run to her sister.
She wasn't sure where Leliana had appeared from, but suddenly the Spymaster's hand landed on her arm and pulled her to a halt. "I'll see to Lila. You must deal with Florianne!" When still Rosalie hesitated, she added in a softer voice, "I will do all I can for her. Go!"
There wasn't time to question, only to draw her daggers and run.
"Florianne, what have you done?" Gaspard demanded, his gaze fixed on poor Lila, who now lay on the floor with Cullen and Leliana kneeling at her side.
"Don't be coy. This was our plan! I did this for you, brother," she insisted, stepping backwards as she spoke. Doubtless she'd realized that the balcony behind her was the only escape route open to her now.
"Me?" he gasped. "Have you gone mad?" The panic in the Grand Duke's voice was real. He was an intelligent man, after all. Smart enough to predict that there was a chance his head would roll over a plot he'd had no true involvement in. Certainly smart enough to realize that the loss of the Inquisitor would bode ill for all of Thedas.
As Rosalie moved into place, so did some of the Inquisition soldiers. Peripherally, she was aware of the chaos in the ballroom. Florianne had people waiting in the wings, just as the Inquisition had. Fighting was breaking out everywhere, and unarmed nobles and servants were being caught up in the middle of it. "No. Not Gaspard. You did this for Corypheus."
Florianne sneered. "What a terrible guest you are, interrupting your host." Two Inquisition soldiers moved in to detain her, but she quickly dispatched them with the knife that was still red with Lila's blood. "For Corypheus, kill them!" she called, then ran to the balcony and jumped over the edge.
Rosalie was in hot pursuit, not even aware that Bull, Vivienne, and Varric were all right behind her. All she knew was that if Lila didn't survive the night, she would be avenged.
Rolling into her landing as she jumped from the balcony, Rosalie noticed a gown abandoned on the ground, and hopped back to her feet just in time to see Florianne already moving towards the fountain of the garden where they'd first entered the palace.
She felt the ground shake just a little as Iron Bull landed beside her, with Vivienne sitting on one shoulder and Varric on the other.
"No time to waste, darling," Vivienne chided gently as she hopped down.
With a nod, Rosalie charged after her enemy, the sound of their footsteps telling her that her companions were following.
When they caught up to her, Florianne was dressed in some leather armour she must have been wearing beneath the discarded gown. That would allow her to move much more easily, and the woman was already fast. The dress Rosalie had borrowed from Lila would offer no such advantage.
The Grand Duchess stopped running and turned to face them, now armed with a bow she must have stashed in the bushes beneath the balcony, knowing she might need it. She nocked an arrow and aimed it at Rosalie. "You've stopped nothing, Inquisitor. The war will not end tonight, and while the Council of Heralds are busy devouring one another over what happened, Corypheus will come. His army will march on Orlais straight from the depths of a nightmare. And all Thedas will fall."
It was harder to care about any of that when Rosalie had just seen her sister cut down. "What a pity you won't live to see any of it," she snarled, stepping forwards.
"You don't think I came this far without an escape planned?" In that moment, she let the arrow fly, and Rosalie only just managed to turn out of its path in time.
There was a resounding clang as the courtyard gates slammed shut behind Rosalie and her companions, and in the moment that Rosalie's head turned to notice it, Florianne had managed to put more distance between them.
"If I bring him your hand, Corypheus won't care that the Empress still lives," she called from her perch atop the courtyard fountain, already nocking another arrow. "So good of you to attend my soirée."