One of Anora's maids was singing a song very softly while brushing her hair. Her rooms were bright and airy, and on that particular day the scent of lilacs insinuated itself throughout the rooms. It was a sweet scent and she inhaled it deeply. She laid down the cup of tea she had been sipping, making a mental checklist of the morning meetings she had scheduled. There was the Antivan contract matter she had been dreading- she had been going back and forth with their negotiators for weeks. She knew her legal advisers could be shrewd, but she liked to look over any of the many cumbersome and tedious addenda. Antivans were clever and quick to extricate themselves or entrap others on the basis of the interpretation of semantics. She had to think like a crafty Antivan if she wanted to assure herself she wouldn't find the kingdom stuck in an unfortunate deal.
"Your Majesty, have you decided on the gown you wish to wear for your event tonight?
She looked at her maid through the mirror on her dresser.
"I'll decide on it later," she sighed. The event was a consequence of one of the losses she incurred during her foray into a very short-lived gambling career.
"Very good, Your Highness," she nodded, running the brush through another section of her hair.
Anora looked up at the mirror again, staring at the billowing curtains in the pleasant morning breeze, suddenly regretting Alistair wasn't there at that very moment. She wanted to tease him about having to go to the event that night and wondered if it would fluster him or if he would have some irreverent quip for her. She would enjoy either reaction, she realized, running her fingers along her teacup's gold trimmed rim. He hadn't let her leave the bed that morning, she recalled, grinning at the memory of his arms encircling her waist as she'd tried to sit up on the bed, dragging her to his side, claiming that it was too early, that Antivans were never on time, that she shouldn't rush the court, since people deserved to have their toast and jam in peace...All very amusing subterfuges she indulged for a bit. As she'd prepared to open the door, outside of which stood the guards awaiting to escort her past the usual throng of heralds, maids, pages, and messengers dallying in the hall, waiting to begin the morning's business, he had seized her by the wrist and gently pulled her back into a last embrace. He'd said to her,
"I wish nights lasted longer."
Her maid continued humming and singing, adjusting the combs in her hair. It was quite the silly song, with verses laden with common platitudes such as, "Of all the lads I see, none is beloved as much as thee," but it was filled with longing for an absent sweetheart.
"What song is that?" Anora asked suddenly.
"Oh, Your Highness! I didn't even realize I was singing it!" she interjected apologetically. "It's just a song bards busking in the market have been singing for the past few days. It's become quite popular."
It was strange, she thought. Such songs had never appealed to her. They seemed foolish and impossible. They had no more to do with her than a fairy tale did: such feelings and emotions belonged there, in the realm of make believe and whimsy. Whenever she heard those kinds of songs, the words would drift through her mind as if foreign and while she may have fleetingly pondered at their significance, she ultimately dismissed them completely as inscrutable.
But that morning, as she wished very much that Alistair were there, it was as if she could nod her head sympathetically at the song's simple sentiment, the strange code broken, surprisingly bittersweet.
"It's nice," Anora told her. "Carry on."
The Antivan diplomat seemed aggravated in the way Antivans usually expressed displeasure: he was smiling. She pointed out to him the phrasing that would burden Fereldan merchants with a very unfavorable exchange rate.
"But it doesn't necessarily mean-"
"If there is room for interpretation, then there is a problem," she'd interrupted impatiently. "We cannot ratify this until it is properly amended.
The diplomat's smile remained frozen on his calculating face. Who knew who he'd be letting down, what deals he'd have to forfeit, to correct that "mistake."
"Of course, Your Majesty. I will have it amended immediately. We shall be able to sign it still today," he informed her.
As he left the meeting table, Anora tilted her head and rubbed her neck. Across from her, Alistair sat, along with a handful of advisers.
"Well met, Your Highness," one of her most senior contract advisers commended her. "There is room for interpretation, but we all know whom these matters tend to favor when Antiva is involved."
"Perhaps Antiva should keep its pickpocketing ways in Antiva...I will not see our traders and merchants cheated thus."
"We had read over it several times, and confess we hadn't thought of the wording as problematic. You are most right," another adviser told her.
"One of us has to be," she said with a hint of annoyance.
They should have picked up on the wording, she frowned to herself.
"Tell the ambassador that we will sign nothing until the entire document is proofread one more time."
"Shall we bring you the new document for evaluation?"
"Me?" she cried. "Absolutely not! I am otherwise engaged."
The advisers looked at each other uneasily.
"Since you are paid, handsomely, I might add, to be watchful of such incidences, you will reread the entire document carefully, flagging any inconsistencies and passages that could be open to interpretation. Summon all the legal advisers. I want your findings reported tomorrow morning."
"As you wish, Your Majesty," the man added contritely. "Shall we tell the good ambassador you will sign after reviewing the new-"
"Tell him what you wish, but I will review nothing," she said in an incensed tone. "If I must review every single contract received ... now thrice for this one... and find each time clauses and wordings that are to our country's disadvantage, I will be in very poor spirits and quite inclined to make some drastic changes," she stated ominously.
"Of course, Your Highness," the man said appeasingly. "We assure you that when you sign the contract at last, it will have been reviewed and reviewed until any potential difficulties are identified and corrected."
"You must," she said threateningly to them all. "Because you will answer to the Crown if there are any failings in this last version."
She dismissed the men hastily, displeased with their performance. They lingered briefly at the meeting table before rushing off to wherever else they were expected.
"They grow lazy," she lamented to Alistair. "As long as their coin pouches jingle, they do not care."
"I can see you are quite angry..."
"Sometimes I wonder if I am surrounded by incompetent fools," she exhaled."It is fortunate I am such an attentive, careful reader," she added.
"You are a most wondrous reader," he grinned, his eyes warm, his voice lower.
She felt the anger subside, more pleasant thoughts emerging.
"Alas, while I may excel at reading, I am not as successful at cards; tonight I pay one of my bets off and attend YOUR charity event," she censured him in a teasing tone.
"It is tonight? That's right! It's the Chantry event." He arched an eyebrow. "There will be speeches, you know...Long winded and quite delusional," he expressed regretfully.
She groaned.
"And the food is traditional fare from the Bannorn: boiled, poached, and blanched. Usually all three at once!" he warned.
"Foolishness has a cost," she sighed.
"And you shouldn't forget it," he said proudly. "And I won't let you forget it... because I will be attending with you," he said.
She looked at him in surprise.
"It's too cruel to inflict upon you," he said, smiling. "You will need an ally in this endeavor...some support. I humbly offer myself for the task. In fact, I will be attending all those events you lost to me with you."
"How altruistic..." She raised her eyebrows at him.
"It's for Ferelden," he told her solemnly. "Actually, no. It isn't. I have ulterior motives."
She feigned surprise.
"Do explain!"
"I really had just wanted to ask you to to accompany me...But the game was a perfect ruse to make sure you would not be able to refuse me," he admitted.
She pretended to be mildly outraged.
"And you were so sure you would beat me?"
"Aye, my Lady. To attain such a boon I was willing to be most ruthless..." he grinned charmingly.
Despite herself, she found herself returning the grin.
The last chapter, she grimaced.
There was a tantalizing tension in the air that night, between what had occurred between them the previous night and the realization that after that evening, their paltry excuse for meeting would be gone.
"Do you wish to play a game instead?" she offered, sensing his glumness.
"No," he shook his head. "Let's finish the book. I'd like to know how it'll end."
She encouraged him to do the honors and listened as the story came to an astounding, climatic finale, complete with fires and battles in the streets. At the last words in the book, he slammed the cover shut.
They sat wordlessly. She felt an emotion she didn't quite understand, something that tugged at her as she contemplated the morose expression on his still face, his eyes downcast. Everything indicated he did not wish her to leave. And yet, he wouldn't tell her, he wouldn't ask. He wouldn't impose his will upon her.
"And with that, I relieve you from your obligations," he said quietly.
He never would, she realized. Because unlike her first husband, he was gentle and kind, considerate and thoughtful.
She continued to stare pensively at his saddened expression. He finally looked up again when she rose from the chair, perusing his bookshelves. He watched her crouch, gracefully tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, before running a finger along the spines of the various serials packed at the bottom shelf. She paused before one and wriggled it out from between the other books. With a self-assured gait, she stepped back into the bedroom and stopping before him, dropped a gigantic tome onto his lap.
Swords and Shields. The first two volumes.
"Well, my Lord: I do not relieve you from yours. I want you to read me this, next," she ordered him, with an innocent expression.
He chuckled at last, his gaze tender as his arms gathered her closely to him.
Epilogue next...