Warden-Commander Surana,

So very formal, isn't it? I have always said, it is not the length of the title that matters but rather how you wield it. Fortunately for you, power has only increased your beauty. Flirtations lamentably aside, I have both good and bad news for you. The good news is that I am here in Ferelden. The bad news is that another plot against you has been brought to my attention. It may be local to your Amaranthine, or at least, that is where my investigation has brought me.

I do not want to risk tipping them off by coming to you at Vigil's Keep, as I have reason to believe they're watching the fortress. I have enclosed an address. Meet me there as soon as you're able to slip away from your usual charming retinue.

Ever yours,

Z.

Adara had folded and unfolded the letter so many times that it was illegible in the creases, but that didn't matter: she had already memorized the address. It had been a week since their mission to Eskford, and they had only been back at Vigil's Keep for a few days. She knew by this point that she was not a person destined to experience many dull days in her life, but Maker, why was this happening again? Any conspiracy against her had to predate her visit to Aeonar if there had been enough time for Zevran to get wind of it all the way in Antiva.

Honestly, she was more annoyed than worried. Someone had been trying to kill her at all times for years now, so this was nothing new. At the very least, Zevran's letter gave her something to think about besides Carver Hawke.

They hadn't had much cause to speak since returning to Vigil's Keep. Carver wasn't particularly chatty in the first place, and their day-to-day tasks only had them incidentally crossing paths. Adara very much wanted to follow up on what had been about to happen in Eskford's mine, but she didn't know how. As Warden Commander, it wouldn't be too difficult to fabricate some reason or another to require his presence, but that didn't seem right. She didn't want to make him be around her. Damn it all, when had she been put on the back foot? She had always privately acknowledged that she found Carver's broad shoulders and piercing gaze to be very handsome, but she couldn't pinpoint the moment when she had gone from tolerating his grouchy company to wanting it.

What did normal people do in these scenarios? Adara had no idea. Growing up in the Circle Tower was like living in another world, and the rules of courtship that applied there did not translate well to life beyond it. There hadn't been anything normal about her and Alistair, either. They had been pushed together (and later torn apart) by wholly unique circumstances. It had just… happened.

She wanted to talk to Zevran. Adara very much doubted that he would have any useful advice regarding the embers of her love life, but at the very least he was always good for a boost of confidence. She missed him. She missed everyone who had traveled with her during the Blight. Their experiences together had forged powerful bonds, and she felt lesser for no longer having them at her side.

With the letter tucked in her pocket, Adara made the trip to the City of Amaranthine by herself. She traded her usual staff for a plain one that made for a better walking stick, and she pulled her hair back beneath her hood to be somewhat less conspicuous. Her Warden blues remained folded in her chest of drawers, as Adara instead chose to wear a green wool tunic. The guards and merchants who could recognize her by sight tended to leave her alone when she ventured into the city, but if Zevran was right about conspirators in Amaranthine, extra caution would not hurt.

The city wasn't as big and bustling as Denerim, but there were still people coming and going at all times. The taverns and brothels were kept busy even during the daylight hours, though the patrons didn't begin to get truly rowdy until after dark. Most of the time. Adara passed the Crown and Lion and Bartholomew's before passing the Splendid Sheath. The doors opened as she passed, and a trio of Grey Wardens spilled onto the street, carousing and egging each other on the way brothers-in-arms often did.

Seneschal Garevel had begged both the Grey Wardens and the soldiers of Vigil's Keep to have all the fun they liked, but please, please, for the love of the Maker, don't wear their uniforms to the brothels. Well, Adara had no intention of ratting them out or embarrassing them. She paid them no mind and tried to step around them, looking down at the ground rather than risk catching their eyes by accident.

One shoved another in response to some tease, who bumped into Adara with nearly enough force to knock her over. She managed to keep her balance, but her hood fell back.

"Jacen, you shithead, watch it! I'm sorry, miss—uh, Adara?" Of course it had to be Carver Hawke, who looked mortified to be caught outside of the brothel. "I mean, Commander. Um. Sorry." The other two Grey Wardens—Leo, of course, and a Dalish man named Jacen—also muttered apologies with stricken looks on their faces.

Adara tried to wave them away. "I didn't see you. Have fun." A woman pushing a cart of apples had stopped to watch, and Adara didn't want to start attracting attention. Besides, if Carver liked to patronize the city brothels, that wasn't any of her business. She was annoyed for other reasons, surely.

She tried to continue on her way to Zevran's address. Carver gestured for Leo and Jacen to go on without him and fell into step beside her. "It's not what it looks like," he said.

Adara raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Red-faced, Carver dragged a hand through his dark hair. "Okay, it is, but—"

"Carver," she said, holding up a hand to stop him. "Please. It's fine. I was just walking past."

"I just don't want you to think…" he trailed off.

"Think what, that you're a man who goes to the brothel sometimes? It's none of my business."

"It could be," he blurted out. Could his face get any redder? "If you wanted."

"I don't really want to go to the brothel?" she said, her voice lifting in confusion. She could feel her own face getting hot now.

"That's not what I meant!" Carver said quickly. Maker, they were stammering at each other like teenagers. "Sod. Can we start this conversation over again?"

The Maker worked in truly terrible ways. Just this morning Adara had been looking for a way to broach this kind of conversation with Carver, but certainly not under these circumstances and not now when she did not have the time. If she wasted any more time, she would be hard-pressed to get back to Vigil's Keep before nightfall.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Let's talk about this later. I really do have somewhere to be."

He blinked and for the first time seemed to notice that she was attempting to maintain a low profile. "What are you doing in the city?"

"I'm meeting someone."

Carver frowned. "By yourself?" It was a reasonable question—the Warden Commander never traveled anywhere by herself these days—but it still rankled her.

"Yes, by myself. I'm a grown woman, and I can go where I like. You're not my keeper," she huffed.

She could tell by the look on his face that he intended to argue with her, so she held up a hand to stop him before he could start. "Go back to the others," she ordered. Then her voice softened. "We can talk later. I promise."

Adara gave him a quick smile to try and express that this bizarre conversation wasn't as disastrous as it felt. She pulled her hood back up and continued along her way at a faster pace than before. When she looked back, Carver was still standing in the street looking after her with a frown darkening his face. She hurried to round the corner so she wouldn't have to see it anymore. She would figure out how to make the frown go away later.