Compared to the biting frost outside, stepping into the vestibule was like stepping into a warm bath. A wide, thickly-carpeted staircase was flanked on either side by statues; gold winged spirits in flight, each holding a small bowl of embers that spread more warmth than they naturally ought to. Every panel of wall was decorated with gold filigree, and every candle sconce, every chandelier, each leg of each furnishing, was gold. Enormous white marble statues of Andraste's disciples stood in half-circles set into the walls, and heavy-looking blue drapes above framed the equally imposing Andrastian murals on the ceiling.

At the top of the stairs, footmen were waiting to invite the Inquisition to join the procession at the ballroom doors, and Josephine swiftly took charge to organise her flock into queuing in the correct order- by rank in the Inquisition as representatives of the divine, then by rank in the royal court, followed last by the Inquisition's attachés. Fae, lagging behind for a few blessed moments, caught hold of Varric's arm as he retreated further back in line. "Varric!" she whispered. "I didn't see Hawke outside?"

Varric rolled his eyes. "She's stuck in her carriage like the rest of them. Honoured guests of the honoured guests' honoured guests go last, apparently."

"Lady Seer," Josephine ushered Fae forward to stand behind Ellethir.

"And now presenting, the honoured guests of Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, the Inquisition!" The herald called from inside the ballroom. "Lady Inquisitor Ellethir Lavellan!"

"Deep breath, and glide in," Josephine whispered, nudging Ellethir forward. The Inquisitor smoothed her worried features into a practiced, peaceful half-smile, and disappeared beyond the doors.

Fae fidgeted with the embroidery on her cuffs, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. When the herald called again, she jumped a little. "Lady Seer Faellathi Tabris!"

Josephine deftly repositioned Fae's hands, placing them folded over her stomach and speaking quickly but quietly. "Remember, when Madame Vivienne is called, the Inquisitor will walk to where Gaspard will be standing. You will follow, then stop two paces behind her and to the right. And smile! Good, go."

Fae's wildest childhood imaginings fell short of the Winter Palace's ballroom. Tapestries depicting scenes from the Chant of Light lined the walls, and the room was so well-lit despite its size that the candles in the wrought-iron chandeliers above them must have numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands. The statues of winged spirits in the Vestibule were tiny compared to the statues of golden griffons ready to take flight from the balustrade which bordered the ballroom floor. On either side of the ballroom floor, great tables were laden with enough food and drink to last several winters.

At the far end of the ballroom, there was a short set of steps and a slightly raised landing, where Gaspard currently stood, and a masked band to one side played a light-hearted tune. The guests who had already been welcomed inside- the members of the Council of Heralds and their relations, had taken their places at the balcony surrounding them, or at the great tables, to watch the guests of lesser importance than they be presented to the empress. At the balcony above, Empress Celene herself looked down upon them all, with another noblewoman by her side, presumably Grand Duchess Florianne.

Far back at the ballroom's entrance, the herald stood at the balcony in between two soldiers, reading from a comically large scroll. He accepted a small sip of water from a tray held by a footman, whose sole purpose was apparently, to offer the herald sips of water as he made his announcements.

The herald cleared his throat. "Lady Inquisitor Ellethir Lavellan, vanquisher of the rebel mages and templars of Ferelden, saviour of Haven and of Redcliffe, Herald of the Blessed Andraste, and Inquisitor of the Holy Inquisition!" Ellethir curtsied deeply before Celene, who nodded her approval before lifting her gaze to the herald, waiting patiently for the rest of their party to be announced. When Ellethir began to cross the ballroom, the herald continued.

"Lady Seer Faellathi Tabris of the Former Ferelden Circle of Magi, first cousin to the Hero of Ferelden, saviour of the annulled mages of Kirkwall, Right Hand of the Herald of Andraste and Holy Seer of the Inquisition!"

"That's a mouthful," Fae muttered under her breath, already smiling. She curtsied, head bowed, and moved to follow after Ellethir. She picked a spot on the far wall- a gold flower, just behind the lutist's head, to train her gaze on, and walked.

"Not one elf, but two!" she heard someone out of her line of vision gasp. "Non, there's more, they just entered, see?"

"Seeker Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Philomena Pentaghast. Fourteenth cousin to the King of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais and Right Hand of the Divine!"

"Any more and we shall have an entire savage clan!"

Remember to smile.

"Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court, veteran of the Fifth Blight, seneschal of the Inquisition and Left Hand of the Divine!"

Eyes on the flower, eyes on the flower.

"Let it not be said that the Inquisition lacks for audacity."

"Certainly it could not be said of Grand Duke Gaspard."

"Hush, silly girls. I've met that one, on my pilgrimage to the Inquisition. A strange creature to be sure but she is a sweet little thing, I am not at all surprised Our Lady was taken with her. Mind your manners in the Empress' presence."

"Yes, grand-mere."

"Sorry, grand-mere."

And then Fae was out of earshot, stopping behind Ellethir and taking a step to the right.

"Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City, and ambassador to the Inquisition…Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, commander of the Inquisition forces and former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall…Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter of the Former Ostwick Circle of Magi, Enchanter of the Imperial Court and Mistress to the Duke of Ghislain... Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Vyrantium Circle of Magi and son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel…Warden Blackwall of Val Chevin, constable of the Grey and bearer of the Silverite Wings of Valor…Ser Varric of House Tethras, deshyr of Kirkwall to the Dwarven Merchants' Guild… Ser Iron Bull, leader of the famed mercenary company Bull's Chargers…Lady Sera Mai Balls-eash of Korse."

Josephine was going to kill Sera for that, Fae thought to herself, forcing her expression to remain neutral as she focused on the gold flower still. There was a pause. Was there supposed to be a pause? Behind them, the herald looked at his scroll, frowning.

One of the soldiers nudged him lightly with his armoured elbow, and the man startled. "And, Cole!" he said uncertainly. Everyone watching the presentation craned their necks to see who Cole was, but Sera had been the last one waiting.

The herald cleared his throat once again. "The members of the Inquisition are as such presented."

Ellethir curtsied again, and the rest of the Inquisition's party followed, finally allowed to look upon the empress. A crown of diamonds and amethysts sat on pale blonde curls, and a mask inlaid with moonstone and embellished with delicate lilac sapphires covered most of Empress Celene's face, where thin gold lines represented her cheekbones and nose. The lower, uncovered half of her face was painted white, her lips dark gold. She wore a gown of dark blue silk trimmed with fur, dyed blue to match, which accentuated a low-cut collar that swept along her clavicle and below her shoulders, arcing up at the back to meet an intricately-wrought piece of metalwork. From the back, the piece would reveal itself to be the face of the symbolic Lion of Orlais, its mane extending to the ends of a matching blue silk cape which trailed behind the gown. From the front, the outer edges of the mane appeared like a halo behind Celene's royal visage.

Grand Duke Gaspard clapped his hands together and laughed, bowing once more. "Cousin! And my dear sister!"

Celene smiled magnanimously. "Grand Duke. We are always honoured when your presence graces our court."

"Alas, I am here only for grace, not for pleasantries, dear cousin. We have business to conclude, you and I."

"Of course! Yet our squabbles cannot be allowed to interfere with our hospitality. We will meet for the negotiations after we have seen to our other guests," Celene said lightly with a sweep of her hand.

"Your hospitality is legendary, Celene," Gaspard bowed. "As we stand in the beating heart of the Chantry, I thought it appropriate to invite those who are currently upholding its holy work to bask in Orlais' honour. May I present the members of the renewed Inquisition, endorsed by Divine Justinia before her most tragic martyrdom."

"You thought well, cousin," Celene nodded indulgently. "Lady Inquisitor, we welcome you to the Winter Palace. Allow us to present our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible."

Grand Duchess Florianne's mask was dotted around the eyes with emeralds, matching her deep green gown, a heavy velvet in the more modest cut expected of a royal who might be senior in age, but not in rank. Thin gold chains, reminiscent of infantry chainmail, criss-crossed across her shoulders as an elegant nod to House Chalons' current military power.

Rather than curtsy, Florianne waved with an uninterested nod. "What an unexpected pleasure. I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities. We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor."

"Now, now, cousin," Celene chided, "We must be grateful to be surrounded by so many friends. Your arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer's day, Inquisitor Lavellan."

"You flatter me, Your Majesty," Ellethir smiled. "Let us hope the breeze does not herald an oncoming storm."

"Even the wisest mistake fair winds for foul," Celene responded without skipping a beat. "We are at the mercy of the skies, Inquisitor, but we have heard much of your exploits, and we are endlessly grateful for your timely assistance in stabilising the region of Emprise Du Lion. Many are the enemies who arise during troubled times, and few are the allies who rise to the occasion. Your miraculous works have made grand tales for long evenings. Tell me, how do you find Halamshiral?"

Ellethir made a show of looking around in wonder. "I've never seen anything to equal the Winter Palace, Your Majesty."

"Now it is you who flatter us," Celene beamed. "We hope you will find time to take in some of its beauties. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance."

The Inquisitor curtsied a final time, with everyone behind her following in kind, and then followed Gaspard up the stairs and away from the ballroom floor.

"You did well, Inquisitor," Gaspard applauded. "Many debutantes have had far less successful entrances to the court. I would stay by your side all night if I could, but I do have a few appearances I need to make first."

"Of course, we cannot be too greedy," Ellethir laughed lightly. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Enjoy the evening," he bowed, and left with his chevaliers in tow.

"The Grand Duke is being generous, but in truth we have only passed the first of many tests," Josephine sighed. "Everyone, assume your places, but try to look not too…confident, in where you are going. Simply arrive at your destinations by chance, making stops along the way. Inquisitor, Seer, linger here in the ballroom while the rest of the guests arrive; there are too many eyes on you at the moment."

Standing at the balcony watching the remaining guests be presented to the empress was a lot less daunting than being the ones on the ballroom floor. Hawke was announced alone, and she gave the Inquisition a friendly wave when she spotted them, drawing an exasperated sigh from Josephine. Friendly waves to friends during a court presentation was poor etiquette.

From a distance, Hawke's gown looked like a slim black satin gown overlaid with lace, but as she half-jogged up the stairs to meet them, it became apparent that the skirt was in fact loose-fitting breeches which were fitted at the waist and flared out to mimic the structure of a skirt.

"Inquisitor, Fae, Lady Josephine. Did I miss anything exciting?"

"Not yet, praise the Maker," Josephine admitted. There was a loud squeal behind her, and she cringed visibly. "Speak of the demon…"

"Josephine! Oh, Josephine! Is this her?!" A young woman wearing a lace mask over her eyes rushed over, skirts bustling excitedly.

"Yvette…!" Josephine sighed deeply. "Inquisitor, please allow me to introduce to you my younger sister, Yyvette Gabriella Montilyet."

"Inquisitor!" Yvette grabbed Ellethir's hands in hers. "Is it true what they say? Josephine writes but she never tells me anything."

"Uh, it depends, what do they say?"

"They say in Antiva that the mages in Redcliffe were performing blood rites to make the corrupt templars even more corrupt by enticing them into orgies!"

"What?"

Fae let out a laugh, immediately covering her mouth with her hand at Josephine's Look.

"Oh!" Yvette let go of one of Ellethir's hands to take Fae's. "And you must be the Seer! Can you read my palms? Everyone says you can see the future. Oh, but we should go somewhere more private so I might take off my gloves…"

"I…think, those stories get a little carried away, my lady," Ellethir says apologetically. "There weren't any, uh, orgies."

Yvette wrinkled her nose. "Oh. How dull Redcliffe must have been, then."

"And I can't read palms," Fae added.

"Oh? Madame Rossi can read palms."

Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yvette, Madame Rossi makes whatever claims necessary to sell her curative herbs."

"Are you enjoying the ball, Yvette?" Ellethir asked, interrupting whatever protest Yvette was preparing to make.

"Hmmm. Well, the gallery…"

"Fae," Leliana said lowly, appearing behind her. "Bring the Inquisitor to the vestibule when you have a moment. I've discovered a player who might complicate things."

Fae nodded without looking back, and Leliana moved on.

It wasn't long before Ellethir's best attempts at making friendly conversation were overruled by Josephine and Yvette's bickering. Fae took Ellethir's arm, and they quietly backed away to retreat to the vestibule.

Leliana waved them over to her seat as soon as she spotted them, a white chaise longue embroidered with embrium blooms.

"Who is the new player?" Ellethir asked. "An ally or an enemy?"

Leliana smiled wryly. "If only it were that simple. I believe she may be playing her own hand when it comes to the empress. She is Celene's occult advisor. An apostate who charmed the empress and key members of the court, as if by magic."

"Isn't Vivienne her magical advisor? I'd find it hard to believe she wouldn't notice a mage trying to manipulate the empress like that. It would require blood magic, wouldn't it?"

"True," Fae agreed. "And wouldn't the empress be used to people trying underhanded ways to gain influence over her court? Isn't that how this whole civil war started?"

Leliana made eye-contact with Fae. "Correct on all counts, but like you she is no ordinary apostate. You and I have both had dealings with her in the past."

"Both of us? Who?"

Leliana waited, and Fae's eyes suddenly widened in realisation. "Morrigan?" she whispered. "She came to Orlais? Why? Has she been here this whole time? Why didn't you mention this before?"

"She arrived around three years ago. Madame Vivienne had already largely withdrawn from the court about a year earlier, when Duke Ghislain first became ill, and since Morrigan's appointment as court mage, she'd been apparently content to be Celene's pet. The rest of the court simply enjoyed the scandal. I'd assumed Morrigan did it for the for the stability being a member of the court provided, for her child's sake at least. Perhaps that was true, but now she has suddenly secured powerful friends. She is ruthless, as you well know. I cannot say what she may be planning."

Fae looked from one to the other. "Wasn't she close with you two? When you travelled together during the Blight?"

"Morrigan…tolerated me," Fae admitted, exchanging a look with Leliana. "She wasn't used to children, then."

"She was fond of you, in her way, but she wasn't used to other people at all, then, child or otherwise," Leliana smirked. "And she certainly only tolerated me. I was…different, then, too."

Ellethir's mind raced. "But you believe she was invited into Celene's inner circle by magic?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's a very…abrupt change. If she is, she is controlling Celene by striking at her side. The empress is fascinated by mysticism- foreseeing the future, speaking with the dead, that sort of thing. Magic outside of what a Circle mage would know. I expect her acceptance of our invitation is at least in part out of curiosity towards your Anchor and Fae's visions both. Morrigan's talents also fall into this obscure category."

"Then we have to find out what she's using those talents for," Ellethir decided, standing back up with Fae's assistance.

"Indeed. Whatever the truth is, it's worth investigating. We cannot let unknown factors elude us," Leliana said firmly. "I have two leads, both pointing us towards the Guest Wing, through the Hall of Heroes over there. It's a popular area to convene, with any luck that will be to your advantage. I'm coordinating with our spies to see if we can find anything of use, and in the meantime, I will be in the ballroom. We have some time before the first bell."

"We'll see you later, then."