9:37 Dragon, Winter

Arianna scrunched her nose. "What are you going to do with that?" She pointed in distaste at the glass case that housed Lady Pentaghast's gifted Death Watch Beetle.

Sophine whirled around on her cushion to spy the insect, her mouth forming a round O in horror.

"I'm going to put it in the main room of my estate." Samantha waved her wine glass in the air. "And all the ladies who come for tea will have to stare at it."

Arianna couldn't suppress her giggle. "You won't get anyone over twice."

"That's probably the idea," Benjamin Garrity said, staring at the beetle.

"You must be mad to keep that thing!" Sophine declared. Evidently, in Ansburg, the Death Watch Beetle was reviled. Perhaps because of the country's proximity to Antiva, the countries shared some cultural beliefs.

"Sammie's always been a little mad," Benjamin said, but then corrected himself: "In a good way."

On the heels of the news of the Kirkwall Chantry's destruction, another unbelievable horror had struck the world, this time in Orlais. Apparently, a dragon had made a fiery appearance at the Ten-Year Gathering. Unsurprisingly, a Pentaghast who also happened to be a Chantry Seeker had dispatched the beast, but not before it had nearly leveled the Divine's Chantry and killed two out of the eight visiting Grand Clerics! Francesca had escaped the calamity unharmed, but Knight Commander Rayce still blamed himself for not being there to watch over her. For the first time, Samantha felt he was being too hard on himself. A rogue apostate hell bent on destroying the Chantry was on the loose in the Free Marches, and Ser Rayce was needed in Starkhaven to secure the Circle and the Chantry. And so far, violence had not erupted, likely because of his and Goran's preparations.

Samantha's own nerves were a bit frayed from the news, and so with the world so full of lunatics and her Beenie trying to navigate through them – if he lived, which Goran swore he did – she needed distractions badly. Arianna was a joy to be around, Benjamin's company was only tolerable in her presence, and Sophine was visiting from Ansburg for the winter. Vincent Tyler had even accepted her invitation, bringing along his betrothed: unfathomably, Lady Taru Darfour the Morose from Orlais. But on this occasion, Taru didn't seem sad at all. She seemed... well, in love.

"Veen-ceent." She sighed his name like it was made of chocolate, holding out her empty goblet. She needed a refill of this year's Tyler Estate's syrah, a smooth yet strong wine with hints of lavender.

"Of course, my dear," Vincent said too-sweetly, cradling her glass like it was their love-child. He strode across the room triumphantly to the bar, where Samantha, Sophine, and Arianna had been standing. At his arrival, he asked them about Taru: "Isn't she lovely?"

"Oh, yes," Arianna said dramatically. "Lovely. I've not heard a finer Orlesian accent in my life."

"That's because she is Orles—"

"We should throw her a party!" Arianna declared.

"No!" Vincent nearly yelled, throwing his hands out in front of him, but he quieted down when he said, "Taru hates parties."

Well, that would explain some things, Samantha thought, remembering her past rude behavior at several parties they had both attended. Goran's formal dinners and before that... before that... A party dressed in blue, chaotic and fun, before world's evil had taken away a piece of her naivety.

Sophine tilted her head in confusion. "What's the occasion for the gathering?"

"Her accent," Arianna purred. "Truly, it is without match."

Sophine giggled, but Vincent rolled his eyes, turning to fill Lady Taru's goblet. "Arianna, you're as devious as a witch of the wilds."

Arianna leaned forward suggestively. "Don't tempt me."

"What are you three threatening Vincent with?" Benjamin called over from his perch on the window.

"A party!" Arianna announced to the room.

They had gathered in the Prince's Royal Parlor, a room that rarely saw visitors. The walls were taller in this room than any other. Elaborate wall decorations and paneling displayed how important and extravagant the Vaels truly were. Or at least, how their legacy was. Goran hadn't redecorated in years, and the century-old tapestries were losing their vibrancy.

Even so, the room was still bright even on such a cloudy day, mostly because all the candles in the room had been lit. The five chandeliers that hung silently over their heads held no less than twenty candles apiece. More candles glowed brightly from within the shining golden candelabras mounted between large portraits and obscured by display cases… one of which housed Samantha's Death Watch Beetle. In a tipsy fit of cheekiness, and with Arianna's encouragement, Samantha had requested that it be moved to this room, and Goran hadn't objected though he probably should have. This was a formal room, after all.

Across the room, in a separate display case, sat Corbinian Vael's golden armor plate. It stared at Samantha silently from beneath the glass, and the more spirits she drank, the warmer it felt. Even from a distance. She liked to imagine a ghostly figure growing from the metal, spreading out with a soft glow. First the arm, then the shoulder, then his chest, and eventually his legs, too. He stood there, dimly lit in Samantha's imagination, smirking every so often, his arm stuck to the armor plate. Restrained to the corner of the house in which Samantha's heart lived.

Sophine kept politely commenting on the wine, and it took Samantha three comments before she realized that her friend was sending her not-so-subtle hints to stop staring at the armor plate. The others didn't know, and the plate would likely spawn questions that, on the Prince's request, neither of them were supposed to answer.

"Another one?" Benjamin complained. "Whose turn is it, anyway?"

Arianna pointed a giddy finger at Vincent, who shook his head feverishly. "No. No parties."

"Oh!" Arianna pouted.

"I'll throw the party, then," Samantha said, shooting a glance across the room to Corbinian's shadow, imagining him smiling approvingly at her subversion. "This palace could use more life."

Arianna clapped her hands together happily, and Benjamin laughed greatly before he said, "A party for the sake of it? At the palace? You're becoming more like a Vael every year."

Samantha looked down into her glass. Benjamin had meant it as a joke, but something about it pulled on Samantha's heart, for in there, she was a Vael. She lifted a single finger, the rest wrapped around the wine glass, so that she could better see the ring that Corbinian had given her just over ten years ago, and silently wished he would come home already. Goran had spoken of him so often, so casually – When he gets back... He'll be interested to learn... You can tell him I said that – that Samantha had been infected by his fervent belief that any day now, any moment now, Corbinian would simply walk up to the gates of Starkhaven, the bells ringing with announcement of a visitor, and just come home. Samantha looked across the room to Corbinian's ghost, who just smiled warmly.

"This wine is very... rich," Sophine announced.

"You probably don't have many wines like this in Ansburg," Vincent said proudly.

Sophine laughed unconvincingly, sputtering something that Samantha wasn't paying attention to but sounded like, "Oh, that's so true."

"Parties, pfeh!" Taru the In-Love said. "Small gatherings are better. More intimate. One may share secrets and swear loyalty oaths to never reveal them."

"Oooh! Secrets!" Arianna's eyes positively sparkled with delight. "We don't need a party for that! We can swear loyalty oaths right here. Right now."

Taru the Intrigued raised a thin brow. "You want to share secrets now?"

Sophine and Samantha exchanged a quick glance.

Benjamin laughed. "I'm in."

"I'm game," Vincent said quickly.

Sophine opened her mouth when the others turned to her, and with only a moment's hesitation, she lifted her glass into the air and smiled. "Why not?"

All eyes turned to Samantha, who felt strongly that she would reveal too much by refusing. She snuck a glance at Corbinian's imaginary glowing figure and could have sworn that he was nodding to her mischievously. Whether it was because of him or the three glasses of wine, she said, "Okay. I'm in, too."

Arianna squealed with delight, settling down on one of the plush red velvet sofas, and Benjamin plopped down on a nearby cushion. Vincent and Taru were on another sofa, separated by mere centimeters. Sophine settled down next to Arianna, shooting a passing glance at the display case that housed Corbinian's armor plate. Samantha walked around the room towards one of the sofas, passing Corbinian's shadow, and it felt like she was passing a fireplace. Was she that affected by her wine?

"Who starts?" Benjamin asked, staring at Arianna.

Taru the Officiate said, "We start by swearing on the Maker's right hand, that whatever is said here does not leave this room, this company, and is never spoken of to another soul, living or dead."

A wide smile spread across Benjamin's face. "Oh, I swear."

"On the Maker's right hand!" Taru insisted.

"I swear on the Maker's right hand!" Benjamin said with mock seriousness.

Vincent raised his hand to his chest. "I swear on the Maker's right hand, too."

Arianna moved her hand to touch her forehead and then her chest; it was a common gesture of sincerity. "I swear on the Maker's right hand." And then she giggled.

"Why the right hand?" Samantha asked, trying to stall, but when Taru huffed, she rushed the words from her mouth: "I swear on the Maker's right hand."

Sophine downed her wine in one gulp, slapping her empty goblet on the table with a clang so loud that Taru jumped. "And I swear on the Maker's right hand."

The Orlesian maiden lifted a hand to her chest. "Is that how all oaths are sworn in Ansburg?"

Sophine shrugged. "Oaths aren't meant to be whispered."

Samantha's eyes flicked to Corbinian's imaginary figure. The Oath of Starkhaven had been always been taken with great fanfare, and she remembered how loud Corbinian's ceremony had been. Sophine was right; oaths were meant to be yelled for the whole world to hear.

"And I swear on the Maker's right hand," Taru said, still somewhat unsettled as she folded her small hands on her full skirt. "Now, I will start by telling one secret and the rest of you may make one comment each, but no more. I will choose, based on your comments, who tells next."

The rest nodded, and Samantha felt nervous. She was a terrible liar and, with Corbinian's too-warm armor plate across the room, she tried feverishly to think of a secret that didn't involve him.

Taru started, speaking with her perfect Orlesian accent: "My brother Paavo had a son with a whore. Just over ten years ago. That's why he didn't want me to date anyone. He was afraid that I would be careless. Like he was. He threatened to take away my inheritance, but I cannot live like that. Chastity is for brothers and sisters of the Chantry – not me. If Orlesian high society knew, our family would suffer."

Samantha's jaw went slack – a bastard child with a whore? What a scandal! Lady Preston would be positively aghast to learn that her nephew had fathered a child out of marriage – and with a whore!

"So, wait," Benjamin said, holding out his hand. "Why did he have this authority over you?"

"He is my brother. It is how it is done," Taru said simply. "Is that your comment?"

"No," Benjamin said quickly, and then said, "My comment is this: There's not much difference between you brother and that whore."

Taru let out a sweet burst of laughter, catching herself almost immediately, lifting a delicate hand to her pouty lips.

Arianna was giggling, too. "He's pretty good, though." Benjamin shot her a look that positively glowed jealousy and she laughed loudly. "At dancing, scemo."

Benjamin relaxed back against his cushion, trying to act normal but Samantha could see the relief on his face.

"I assume your brother did not marry this girl?" Sophine asked, and at her question, everyone in the room looked to her in shock.

"My brother would not marry a whore!" Taru declared, as though marrying the girl would have been a far greater crime than fathering a bastard child with her. "The dishonor would be too great."

"If he lived in Ansburg, my father would force him to marry her and support the child with his family's money. So, I guess that makes him fortunate to live in a place like Orlais!" Sophine smirked. "So, as long as he doesn't acknowledge the poor child, he won't lose his status." She then added, sarcastically, "Sort of works out for everyone, I guess."

"I... suppose," Lady Taru said, though she managed to look somewhat conflicted.

Samantha had to remind herself that Ansburg was a different sort of town.

"I didn't know that about your relationship with your brother," Vincent said to Taru gently. "It's not right that he has control over you. That's my comment."

This boy had to be the greatest sap in the history of Starkhaven, Samantha thought.

Taru nodded appreciatively, and then everyone in the room turned to Samantha, their wide eyes questioning her silently. Thoughts of her own brother swirled with judgments about Taru's family, about how they could abandon their own blood. Innley... She glanced across the room to Corbinian's armor plate, imagining him standing beside it, winking slyly. She could almost feel his hands covering hers, his breath on her ear, whispering the words that she should say.

She opened her mouth and said glumly, "I think your parents and my parents should have gotten together for tea. They would have gotten along famously."

Taru smiled, and nodded her head sadly. "Paavo is like my father. I am not sure I would feel nothing for my own child, but Paavo is not like me."

Arianna lifted her glass to her lips. "You know, now that I think of it, his dancing wasn't so great."

Benjamin cracked a smile, and Taru and Samantha each let out a small laugh. Both Sophine and Vincent smiled wide, clearly appreciating her attempt to lighten the conversation. This Orlesian Game of Secrets was serious business.

Taru then sat tall, surveying the group and said, "Based on your comments, Benji shall go now."

Benjamin glanced apprehensively around the room, his gaze lingering on Arianna. He started slowly. "I... haven't received my title and inheritance yet, because I haven't married," he finally said. "And if I don't find a bride before next summer, my parents are going to try and arrange one with some family from Orlais. I'm not even supposed to know."

Taru the Perplexed cocked her head to the side, staring at Benjamin. "You don't want to marry?"

"Well..." He was trying very hard not to look at Arianna. "I could. I mean, marry a girl. In a Chantry. Anyway, it doesn't matter."

Arianna was beaming like the sun, as though she had expected no less an admission from him. "Don't worry, scemo," she said. "I'm sure your new bride will just adore that little thing you do with your toes. That's my comment!"

Benjamin fumed, but he seemed truly happy at the same time. "I have less than six months to pick a girl from a gaggle of idiots and you're laughing at me!"

Arianna nodded delightfully while Taru asked, "Which family?"

"The DeLauncets," Benjamin answered hastily before turning back to Arianna. "I'm almost inclined to bring you home to my mother, just to watch her head explode."

Arianna never stopped smiling. "I've won over much harder women than your mother. There are a few Antivan Crows whose mothers wished I was available."

There was a pause as everyone tried to understand her final sentence. Finally, Samantha said, "But you are available, Ari."

"Yes!" Arianna smiled at her friend. "Just like you are."

Samantha felt her body flush. What had Arianna just said? What had she implied? Did she know about Corbinian? Samantha glanced to the corner and wished Corbinian's ghost would turn real, ripping his arm away from that golden plate and striding across the room to join her on the cushion. What would he say in this moment?

Samantha turned to Arianna and said, "Yes, but I don't have your reputation."

Arianna threw her head back and laughed heartily. Taru giggled quietly, her violet gaze drifting down to her delicate hands which were still folded in her lap. Sophine watched Lady Taru with apparent curiosity, and Samantha couldn't figure out why her friend had taken such an interest in the Orlesian girl.

"What do you have against marriage?" Vincent asked Benjamin, and Samantha wondered why he had waited to marry. He seemed like the type of boy who grew up to be married.

Benjamin lifted up his palm, and counted the reason on his fingers. "Well, for one, it's archaic. Two, I have a woman who nags me all the time – my mother. Three, if I need an heir, I'll pick one of my cousins. And four, this wife would probably expect me to spend time with her. Listening to her talk about shoes and flowers."

Arianna laughed, but Taru's face pinched in confusion. "You are a strange man."

"Yes, you have some funny ideas, Benji," Vincent said loftily. "Marriage isn't about producing an heir or gaining another mother. It's about companionship. Friendship. And... yes, okay, love."

Taru smiled at him dreamily, but Samantha felt a lump rise in her throat, and she had to turn away, refocusing her eyes out of the window into the grey sky, thick with clouds. White. Grey. Brown. Nothing had shape, just blotches of color obscured by the morning's rain droplets that still clung to the glass of the window.

Arianna pursed her lips, scrutinizing Samantha openly. "I think it's Sammie's turn."

Samantha turned to the group, finding the rest staring at her and only Sophine's gaze was sympathetic. The rest were expectant. "Benji gets to decide—"

"And I choose you, Ari," Benjamin announced, turning about on his cushion.

Samantha blinked with relief, but Arianna didn't miss a thing, lingering on Samantha before she looked back to Benjamin. "Me?"

Benjamin nodded, lifting his wine glass to his lips. "And make it good."

"Oh, I have a really good one, Benji." She said devilishly. "My family recently lost a good deal of coin. It seems that my uncle, who took control of the family's finances after the death of my father, put money into a mine. Not too long ago, that mine... well, it blew up. Just like the Kirkwall Chantry!"

Taru the Mortified brought a delicate hand her chest while Vincent patted her knee. He said, "That's in poor taste, Ari."

"What?" Arianna asked innocently. "It was an apt analogy, no?"

"I don't know," Vincent asked, annoyed. "Did some rogue apostate blow up your mine?"

Arianna's mouth turned down to a thoughtful frown. "As a matter of fact, yes." But her smile returned almost immediately. "But that's not important. The important part was that we discovered that it was a slave mine! Run by the Crows! Exciting, no?"

Samantha couldn't help the stare she and Sophine shared just then as Arianna was momentarily distracted by one of the ribbons in her long golden hair. The mine. The explosion. The Crows... Samantha thought of Keis' letter, and for a moment, lost in Sophine's spring green eyes, she wondered if, in one way or another, Corbinian would dominate every conversation she would ever have until the moment he returned.

Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "Your family had money in a slave mine? What a scandal!"

"We didn't know!" Arianna protested.

"Like that matters," Benjamin said sardonically. "That's the kind of thing that gets you exiled from Starkhaven – hells, from the Free Marches!"

Arianna harrumphed.

"In Orlais, your uncle would have been cast out of the family," Taru said importantly.

"Ansburg, too," Sophine added.

Arianna smiled sweetly. "Oh, he was cast out all right. Our lawyers gave him to the Crows in exchange for cashing out of the mine. 'Tis a shame, too. We took a loss."

Taru's eyes widened so much that Samantha thought they would tip forward and fall right out of her head. Vincent scoffed in disbelief and even Benjamin seemed disturbed. Sophine just shook her head, as though this wasn't surprising to her in the slightest.

"When did you learn of this, Ari?" Samantha asked reproachfully.

"A few months ago," her friend replied. "But the incident happened years ago. The Crows keep their secrets well."

Samantha tried to imagine Corbinian running from the mine, the billowing dust and smoke chasing him down.

"Sammie?" Arianna asked, watching Samantha carefully. "Do you have a comment?"

Samantha's lips parted, to speak, to scream, to cry out to the heavens, to the Maker, to the world, that Corbinian had been there. That, in a way, she had been there, too. That she was still there. That she would remain there until she heard of the next place where Corbinian had been. Then she would be in that place. Stuck, unstuck, and stuck again. She wanted to say something clever or glib, but an image of a bronze plaque flashed through her mind, halting her words.

If I give you my hands and they burst into flame, do not jump, for the fear is what shall burn you.

Corbinian's warmth radiated from the glass display case, the wristplate aglow with longing, with sadness, with loneliness, with fear. He was all alone in a world filled with rogue apostates and slavers and demons. Of a world so terrifying, Samantha couldn't fathom it. Her friends stayed silent, waiting and watching as she took a long drink from her goblet. Small scratching noises drifted over from the Death Watch Beetle's cage, its furry legs rubbing against its wooden perch as it slowly climbed. Samantha felt a prickle come to her eye.

But then Sophine said casually, "It's not surprisingly at all, really. The Crows recruit regularly from the Dales, which harbor wild children that roam in packs likes wolves. Some of them turn out to be mages, and some of them are rather... unstable. I bet it was something like that."

"Apostate children?" Vincent exclaimed, clearly shocked. "That's more dangerous than an adult! They are not like us. They are sick – they should be locked up!"

Sophine laughed. "And who should round them up? The Chantry of Antiva? Ansburg? Maybe Ostwick? Nobody wants these children, Vincent."

"They can't just let them roam free!" Vincent countered.

Grateful to be saved, Samantha spoke up in defense in of her friend. "The Templars don't care, Vin."

"Do you know something we don't, Sammie?" Benji asked skeptically. "Maybe the Knight Commander has shared classified information with you?"

Samantha's jaw dropped right as Arianna squealed with laughter. "Yes! The way you two stare at each other – so intense!"

Benjamin smirked triumphantly into his glass as he drank the last of his wine.

"The Knight Commander?" Taru the Intrigued asked. "That would be a big secret!"

Samantha shook her head vehemently at Taru, but Arianna ignored the girl's comment. "Come on, Sam-mie! Live your life! What are you holding onto?"

Samantha couldn't help her glance towards the armor plate, and she caught Arianna following her stare – why was she so bad at hiding secrets?

"The Knight Commander is old enough to be her father," Sophine said, sounding surprised.

"Oh, but he is not her father!" Arianna said enigmatically to Sophine.

Samantha felt a flush creeping up her neck, but not from passion, rather from embarrassment. She and Ser Rayce Taaramäe of Orlais had a peculiar relationship, to be sure, but it wasn't anything like what Arianna was imagining.

Arianna caught Samantha's bloom and her eyes twinkled. "Don't tell me that you and the Knight Commander have already—"

Her friend's words provoked a significant reaction from the others, for they seemed quite enamored at the idea of Samantha Mayweather and the Knight Commander.

Samantha huffed, frowning at her friend. "Ser Rayce knew my brother. He thinks he owes me or something. It's nothing."

"Rayce?" Arianna teased.

Samantha rolled her eyes dramatically. "You're killing me, Ari."

Benjamin and Vincent laughed while Taru watched the exchange with some interest. Sophine smiled, but she looked uncomfortable. She didn't like keeping secrets either, it seemed.

Arianna's eyes lit up with excitement. "Has he written you any letters, yet?"

Briefly, Samantha wondered if there was anything Arianna was interested in that wasn't about love. Or sex. "Oh, yes! Long elaborate letters written to me on dirt-scented parchment describing the new isolation chambers down to the last shackle on the wall!" Samantha leaned in closer to her friend who, by now, had flattened her mouth into a frown, recognizing sarcasm. "In fact, he says that I should come over for a tour!"

It wasn't a lie, really.

Arianna bristled in mild irritation. "Oh, sure. Make jokes like normal! But we know the truth!" She turned to the others, grinning in elation.

Samantha knew her friend was trying to rile her up, but Vincent and Taru were exchanging glances that Samantha recognized – they were going to talk about this to everyone they knew, recounting every word of Samantha's non-denial denial. She had to say something.

"There is nothing romantic between Ser Rayce and me. He feels he owes me a debt. That is why he favors me, as you say." Almost absently, she added, "He doesn't realize that he is wrong."

Arianna turned a clever eye back to Samantha, catching the slip. "And why is he wrong?"

Samantha silently cursed to herself – why was she so bad at this? Secrets. Flora used them as currency, but they ate at Samantha's heart like caterpillars on a leaf. "That is between him and me."

"And maybe me, too?"

"So the entire eastern shore of Thedas will know?" Samantha shook her head, laughing a little. "You must think me a naïf."

"No one has ever thought that, Sammie." Benjamin laughed.

"Oh come on!" Arianna stuck out her bottom lip in one of her famous pouts. "You can tell me! I swear! My lips are sealed!"

"We both know that's only temporary."

"I open my mouth for men for only one thing. And you are the only woman I talk to. So..."

Sophine shook her head in amusement, her ire melting away. Benjamin tried to hide his wide smile, but Taru and Vincent both turned as red as beets.

"It's your turn, Sam-mie!" Arianna tilted her head, resting her cheek against her open palm in wait. It was a very Antivan gesture.

Samantha needed to derail this conversation, because she couldn't lie. If she said any more, they would either see through the falsehoods, or she would blurt out the truth – that Innley had been responsible for the mage rebellion, that the Knight Commander had refused to make him Tranquil, that Corbinian was alive, that he had left willingly with the demon to save Samantha, that he may have broken the Oath, that the Ghost Chasers were real, and that Goran had been keeping it from everyone.

"Flora is returning to Starkhaven!" Samantha blurted.

"Oh?" Arianna's eyebrows raised into steep arches. "Why has she not written to me?"

"When?" Benjamin asked.

"I don't know," Samantha answered them both. "But she says she's coming back... with Sebastian Vael."

Vincent laughed incredulously. "He is in exile!"

"Exile?" Taru asked ignorantly. "Why?"

Benjamin answered her first. "Because his drunken idiocy was threatening the prince's reputation."

Sophine asked the astute question. "Why now?"

"Because of what happened in Kirkwall with the Chantry," Samantha replied. "Because of the dragon attacks in Orlais. Because of everything that has happened," Samantha thought back on Flora's letter and how her friend had described what sounded like shameless pandering to a man who would never love her back. "She said there are a lot of lies being spread about the Champion of Kirkwall. She says that the Champion had no part in the chantry's destruction, and that some rogue apostate was the sole perpetrator." Samantha paused briefly before she said, "For some reason, Sebastian thinks the Maker has given him a sign to return here. To challenge Goran for the prince's seat."

Arianna started to giggle, which then turned into a fit of laughter so joyful that none of the others could help laughing along with her.

Benjamin asked her first. "What is so funny?"

Arianna ran a hand over her yellow hair, smoothing it away from her face. "I'd sooner believe Sebastian was coming back with an army of his own personal whores."

Benjamin thought that comment was hysterical, and even Vincent had to bring his hand to his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.

Taru turned to Vincent and asked, "Well, is he coming back or is he not?"

Vincent shrugged, and Samantha felt surprised that they weren't taking Flora's letter seriously. "This doesn't concern any of you?"

"He will not usurp Goran," Arianna said plainly. "The people here, they all look upon Goran like disapproving parents. They may not say it out loud, but they have embraced their hapless, strong, silent, and cowardly prince, because things are just fine around this city. It won't be Sebastian they will reject. It will be change."

Vincent was nodding and even Benjamin's expression looked conciliatory. Samantha hadn't considered this line of reasoning at all, but aside from that, she had no idea the populace might actually choose Goran over someone else.

"Sebastian won't come back," Benjamin said definitively. "He's been saying that for a decade, and he'll keep saying it until he dies an old man in his chantry robes."

Vincent made a face. "He's needed in Kirkwall anyway to rebuild the chantry. Surely, he knows that. If anything, Sebastian should know his duty."

"The people of Ansburg like Goran," Sophine said tentatively, a faint rosy glow blooming in her cheeks. "They speak of him favorably. I know that the Lord Chancellor of Ostwick also favors him, though it could be because of his lack of military training. And he is not alone in that judgment; many will not welcome a new leader whose known associates are wanted for high crimes against the Orlesian Chantry."

"That's true," Benjamin said, sounding worldly. "Most of them hate that Nevarra has such a large standing army. Anyone well-known for their mercenary work likely will be rejected. That would present too great a threat to the Marches sovereignty."

Taru absorbed their judgments as though they were absolute truths, nodding her head thoughtfully with every word.

"So!" Arianna clapped her hands together. "Let's talk about the Knight Commander some more!"

With a sigh, Samantha closed her eyes, reopening them to spy the corner of the room where Corbinian's armor plate sat warmly inside its display case, beckoning her closer. She imagined Corbinian beside it, waiting for her.

"I just love this wine," Sophine said to Vincent.

Samantha straightened up, redirecting her smiles to her guests. It would be hours before her friends would leave. It would several more hours after that when she would dine with Goran and they would discuss Flora's latest letter for the fiftieth time, and debate whether or not Sebastian would actually act this time, or if, like everything else he had ever declared, this too would fall into the bottomless chasm of his empty promises. But then, after all of that, in the quiet of the darkness that permeated the palace at night, Samantha would tiptoe from Corbinian's room, passed Corbinian's portraits, down the stairs and passed the portraits of Corbinian's parents into the formal parlor where the beetle would make soft hissing noises, its insect-feet scratching against its wooden perch when it moved. She would cross the room to where Corbinian waited, glowing with his soft light – was it light from the Maker? – warming up this small corner where Samantha's heart lived.

The Maker made you beautiful and perfect, maybe even for me.