Dragon 9:27, Winter
Aedan finished off his sparkling drink and handed over the empty flute to a passing servant. "How much longer must I stay? Would it be terribly rude for me to leave sometime soon?"
"Do ballrooms truly frighten you so?" Cateline looked to her betrothed, amused. "We should have brought your nanny along," she teased, going back to taking in the view of the dancefloor, filled with elegant nobles spinning and twirling in pairs to the heavenly tunes echoing throughout the chambers.
The young lord rolled his eyes, snapping up another glass from a waiter nearby. If only to take the edge off. Oh, how a visit to the university seems more attractive than ever. He took a large draught of his drink, and from the corner of his eye, watched in dread as a pair of young and haughty ladies approached them. He steeled himself.
Slowly and elegantly, the two women curtsied when they arrived. They wore the same dresses, and, as Aedan only noticed up close, they looked nearly identical in every aspect but one – the golden masks that covered their faces; one was rather sharp, while the other was softer around the edges. "Cateline," greeted Sharpie, voice warmer than Aedan had imagined.
"Claressa," Cateline returned, and then to Softie, "Vaneueve."
The trio of ladies exchanged their usual platitudes, Aedan tuning out as he had already done several times earlier that night, until finally and once more, it was time for him to be introduced. "And I assume this is…" Vaneueve trailed off, glancing at the young lord.
Cateline nodded, "Yes, Lord Aedan Cousland, my betrothed. Claressa and Vaneueve are the twin daughters of Comte Bereau." Aedan bowed, and the two ladies curtsied again. "I was so sorry to hear about dear Pernault."
"Oh, yes," Vaneueve replied, voice drenched in grief, "Cousin Pernault was such a sweetheart. Not a nasty bone in his body." She shook her head. "It was terrible, what happened."
"A cousin of ours passed away last month. Wasting sickness," Claressa explained to Aedan.
"My condolences."
Claressa sighed, seemingly deflating, before straightening with a smile. "Thank you, but now is not the time for sadness or sorrow. No, tonight is for music, drinks and dance." She glanced to the dancefloor nearby, before turning back. "So?"
"So?" Aedan returned, confused.
"Are you really not going to ask either of us for a dance?" Vaneueve was smirking.
"I'm not exactly a dancer."
"Sitting out and watching from the sidelines? And I'd thought that the one saving grace of Fereldan men was supposed to be that they were brave and courageous," she teased.
Cornered, and after a quick look to his betrothed, who nodded gently in return, Aedan stuck out his hand toward the twin's general direction. How could anyone with even a modicum of dignity back down from a challenge like that? Vaneueve placed her hand in his, and the pair made off to dance.
Cateline watched her betrothed dance clumsily in the distance, the sight evoking some strange affection.
"And thus, we are alone at last," Claressa said beside her.
Her unconscious smile was no longer, and the warmth in her body seemed to drain away into the ether as the words slipped out of her mouth, "What is it that you want?" They came out coarser than she'd thought they would. She composed herself.
The comte's conniving daughter, putting on a reaction alluding to shock but not quite the real thing, "Oh, my dear. Whatever have I done to deserve such treatment? I only meant to say that I cherish our time together."
"I have had enough of your machinations for a lifetime, my dear."
It was only then that, ever so slowly, Claressa's beautiful, elegant mask beneath her mask contorted into something ugly, the deceiver revealing her truest form – a most wretched hag. It only lasted for a moment, however, before that textbook haughtiness returned. "Still an exceptionally poor player, I see. In fact, I believe your time in Ferelden has only acted as a detriment to your already shocking skills." She placed a condescending hand on Cateline's arm, "Fear not, for tonight I am here to help."
"I see." Cateline was not going to fall for the witch's schemes. She brushed herself free of Claressa's touch. "How very generous of you. Might I ask, exactly how you plan to do so?"
Claressa moved closer, but not too closely to avoid drawing any attention, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There is a plot against you, being acted out as we speak." Cateline, despite her best efforts, let slip a surprised twitch. It was enough to make Claressa smirk that ugly smirk. "My brother, he is performing some ritual with an apostate. I overheard him rambling on about it to himself in his study, that it would bring about the end of your family."
It took her off-guard, but Cateline centred herself quickly. "And what would motivate Fabrice to pursue such an impossibility?"
"You attack others, unrelenting, but when you are put in place as the target, suddenly you begin to question their motives? You know what they say about what goes around."
"Oh, please," Cateline replied in disgust. "Unlike yourself, I have done nothing to deserve such a threat."
"You were born under a father who rules over a duchy, that is reason enough. And what about that little puppy of yours?" Claressa motioned to Aedan, battling for Fereldan pride on the dancefloor. "Surely, you must know, there are many of us here who believe you bring shame upon our reputation by mixing with his kind, although none would be foolish enough to openly denounce Her Radiance's plans."
"We are each entitled to our opinions, I suppose." Cateline held in her fury. "Still, how does dear Fabrice plan to bring about the end of my family, as you put it?"
"I have none of the details, nor do I have any evidence. What I do have, however, is motive." Claressa grinned fiendishly and Cateline furrowed her brows, until it came to her. "Next in line for the countship after our brother is some distant third cousin once removed, a plebeian. If our dear Fabrice were to be locked away, disavowed or, better yet, dead, then surely the Council of Heralds will consider giving me the title, rather than some distant nobody."
Cateline could barely contain her disgust. "And what of Vaneueve? Would she not be just as eligible?"
"One step at a time, one step at a time. Pernault proved only to be a minor inconvenience, in the end. Besides, you have quite enough of your own problems to worry about." Claressa regarded Aedan and her sister as they returned, the young lord looking positively sick of it. "I believe he is meeting the apostate in a courtyard just to the west of the Summer Bazaar," she whispered to Cateline, "Good luck, my dear."
Aedan tuned out again, busy fixing his coat. The three ladies exchanged pleasantries, the twins eventually floating off back into the crowd, finally. Once he looked presentable, he turned to Cateline, who looked rather strange. He observed closely. By then he knew her well enough to read her expressions with accuracy and this time the signs were all pointing to one thing; she was distressed.
"Is everything alright?"
Cateline rubbed her temple. "I hope so." Her head tilted downward for a moment, before she raised it, seemingly resolute. "I'm afraid I have to leave you on your own for a while." She turned to walk away.
He took her hand, swift but gentle. "If you are in any trouble, please, allow me to help. Even if it involves legwork, I assure you, your training has not gone to waste."
Stiffening, then her shoulders relaxing and a warm smile. "I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. But I am afraid that it would be a betrayal against my family to involve you in this. I am sorry."
It pained him, but he overcame it, drawing her hand to his lips with a tenderness he was unaware he had. "I understand." Really, he did. "Maker watch over you." He relinquished his grip, helpless but to stare at her back as she dissolved into the crowd once more.
And then he was alone, standing awkwardly, yet somewhat conveniently, by the table full of colourful drinks. He grabbed one on instinct, some curiously deep green concoction.
"How awfully brave of you." An Antivan voice he recognised, over from behind.
Aedan spun around, put at ease by the familiar voice, but the sight his eyes were met with were not quite how he remembered the girl. That is, the girl was a girl no longer; she was a woman. "Lady Josephine," he greeted with a bow, carefully setting aside his surprise and finding himself putting on an ever so slightly deeper voice than usual. She returned a greeting and he nodded to the drink in his hand. "Not good?"
"Oh, it's plenty good. Too good, in fact." The heir of Montilyet dropped to a near whisper, "They call it the Green Pitfall. Have one and you're bound to have another. And then another, and another, until finally you lose all control over your inhibitions."
Grimacing at the pitfall, he promptly passed it on to a nearby servant collecting empty glasses. "Turn myself into a sitting duck in a sea full of sharks? I'd rather battle a High Dragon."
"Smart." Josephine let out a light chuckle, playful. "It has been a while, Lord Aedan. I believe we last met when you were arranging your betrothal at the palace. Is Lady Cateline here tonight?"
"Uh," Aedan hesitated a moment. Thinking on his feet was not his speciality. A solid strategy trumps even what the best tacticians have to offer was his motto. "Yes, she just left for a moment."
"She left?"
"Complaining of an empty stomach."
"But there is food here, everywhere."
Just then, a servant walked by with a plate full of savouries. Aedan snatched up a pastry, careful to keep his nerves hidden, shoving it straight into his mouth. Chewing and swallowing in a rush, he pretended not to notice the Montilyet's brows furrowing. "She must have missed it." He managed a laugh, weakly. "Can you believe it? I think she went all the way down to the kitchen."
A pause.
She clearly doesn't believe it.
"So, if I were to go down to the kitchen, right now, I would find Lady Cateline-"
"Okay," the young lord interrupted her, hand raised, "okay. The truth is, we had a bit of a squabble, and she stormed off."
"Oh," Josephine paused for a moment, contemplating his story, "I see."
"Do you?"
A gentle smile spread across her lips. "Yes, I do. It happens sometimes, even in the strongest of bonds. It is only natural." Her attention went to the dancefloor. "Speaking of strong bonds."
Aedan looked too; it was Fergus and Oriana, twirling and gliding with skill and passion. His older brother looked so strong then, so powerful and in control, a bright Fereldan star, shining in the midst of the stuffy Orlesians, the envy of many in his arms.
"Well, I am glad that they worked out, at least," Josephine said.
"At least? You were against their marriage?"
"Naturally, to let such a valuable asset slip to Ferelden. As an ambassador-in-training, here in Orlais, I had thought it a partial failure of my own, not having been able to convince her family to call off the betrothal. Even the ambassador hadn't been able to foresee their early marriage." She smiled. "But I can see now that, perhaps, it was for the best after all."
A thoughtful but proud hmm was all Aedan offered. Josephine was right, of course. It had been for the best, at least for his family and nation. With little Oren having been born, the succession was settled for two generations, and at their disposal were their ties with the wealthy merchants of Antiva and the ever-dominant players of Orlais, not to mention their strong standing within their own nation; the Couslands were guaranteed prosperity for decades to come.
Cailan declined when one of the servants draped in royal blue offered him a drink; he was abstaining tonight. Even someone like him knew when to keep his wits about him. The king needed them then more than ever, sitting in front of Celene in a private balcony raised above the rest of the guests.
"No drink?" Celene sharpened her eyes. He readied himself. One could never be overprepared with the Lioness. "How unlike you. I can't seem to recall ever seeing you without something to sip or swig." The Empress pursed her lips. Or was it a pout?
He shifted in his seat, somehow already feeling a little defenceless. "You know how I am," he managed, "I'd hate to make a fool of myself out here for all of the dukes and marquises to see."
The Empress grinned toothily, a rarity for Her Radiance. "Fear not. No harm shall come to you, as long as you are by my side." Then, her expression curious, "Though, you really are looking quite serious tonight. Is something the matter? You are not usually bound so tight."
Not quite knowing how to reply, Cailan opened his mouth to say at least something, but he decided against it, opting merely to shrug instead.
The sharp, golden rays, or were they wings, shining behind her, Celene straightened her posture, shoulders spread and chin drawn slightly downward. Cailan looked to the spiralling dancers below, but he could feel her gaze boring into him. Her voice, calm, cold and dominant, the warmth from earlier all but gone, "They warned you of me, didn't they?"
Caught off guard, the king steadied himself, clearing his throat. "Who?"
"Please," like a mother to her son, seeing right past the childish trick.
"No one warned me of anything. And even if they did, do you truly believe I would be so easily affected by my subjects?"
Celene pursed her lips again, probably enjoying herself, although he couldn't know for sure. "Do you know what the difference is between us? You are a ruler by circumstance, and I am a ruler by will." With nothing to offer, Cailan remained silent. "You are fooling nobody. We all know that Queen Anora is the real head of Ferelden. You are a mere figurehead, the last of the mighty Calenhads, reduced to nothing but a hand to shake, an arm to twist. And what of the potential threat of the darkspawn's return? How will a spoilt baby, the son of a farmer and his barren daughter be able to defend their domain from such a bottomless evil?"
Cailan had no retort on his own part, but his family, he defended fiercely, "You dare speak that way about the Hero of River Dane and Her Majesty, my wife?"
He was waved off by the Lioness, without remorse. "Admit to yourself, your nation is unprepared and in danger, as circumstances currently stand."
"I already have!"
"Then why deny yourself of my aid? I have loyal, willing men and women at my disposal, ready to immediately bolster your meagre forces and defend your lands." Once more, the king fell silent. "See? Just as I had said. You, a king, no mere mortal, but a king who has been touched by the Maker Himself, being bullied by your subjects into a disastrous decision."
"I am not being bullied by anyone. I am in the middle of convincing them." Cailan sighed, hand gliding through his hair in frustration. He waved over a servant, eager to change the topic by any means necessary. "A goblet full of your red," he ordered.
Cateline had managed to catch Leliana in the eastern wing of the palace, the moonlight bleeding in through the windows set high above, mixing with the candlelight in the otherwise dark and silent hallway.
"You're in luck," the bard said, "I have just finished Marjolaine's job."
"So, you'll do it?"
Leliana took Cateline's hand in hers. "Of course," she said simply, beaming, "We must stick together in times of crisis." Her expression darkened. "And this certainly does seem to be…"
"Potentially catastrophic," Cateline finished, tightening her grip on her friend's hand. "You must be discreet, no one can find out. If this gets out to the others, those vultures… if they find out the truth, it could ruin my family for good."
Leliana nodded, then her attention went somewhere behind Cateline's shoulder as she relinquished her grip, and she craned her neck to get a better look. Her alarmed expression soon melted away, however, and she greeted the newcomer. "Ah, Josephine."
"I hope I am not interrupting," the Montilyet said, stepping into vision.
"Of course not," Cateline replied, putting on her best smile. "Leliana and I were just about to return to the main hall."
"I see. Only," Josephine hesitated a moment, "speaking to Lord Aedan, I had been given the impression that you may be in some sort of predicament."
"Did you, indeed?"
"Let us just say that your betrothed is an honourable man, which inevitably makes him a novice in the art of deception." Josephine smiled. "Now, I understand your desire for secrecy. That is a precept for the Game. Just know that, if you are in need of assistance, you may call on me."
Unsure of what to make of the relative stranger's offer, although she did seem sincere, Cateline turned to Leliana, and the bard answered with a reassuring nod. She returned her attention to the Montilyet. "Thank you. I will keep it in mind, Lady Josephine, but may I ask, what urged you to make such a kind offer?"
"Being in the good graces of a duke's daughter. Now that is something I would never pass up on." Josephine approached, moving closer with a decisiveness that reminded Cateline of her mother-in-law. "More so than that, though, is that any friend of Leliana is a friend of my own."