Warning: Sexual content.
***
When he returned a few minutes later, he paused at the bottom of the stairwell looking up at her. "Just out of curiosity, are you scared looking down over that railing?"
She grabbed a pillow from the nearby daybed which stood against the railing and chucked it at him. He caught it easily and tucked it under his arm as he ascended. "No, I'm not that hopeless!" At the top, she went to pry the pillow from him but he held tight to it. After her first unsuccessful attempt, she huffed at him, "So, that's how it's going to be?" He laughed as a brief melee ensued, ending after thwacking her with the pillow to the back of the head. She froze as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water over her head, "Cullen Stanton Rutherford, did you just mess up my hair? I have a trade meeting soon!"
"No, it looks-- well, I may have, um," her once neat side braid was now frizzy and had pieces looping out of it. She took his stuttering as a confirmation that it was indeed ruined and quickly shook it all out. The kinky waves of her long two-toned hair were softened by fingers combing through it. Taking off his gloves and setting them on the daybed along with the pillow, he couldn't help but grab a handful watching the silky chocolate and gold strands fall through his fingers. She stopped her fussing to watch him in his examination.
"Do you like it?"
"I do, I always have, well, since you let me see it at least."
"And when was that?"
"Since I was held hostage by those mages before the Conclave. You had your hair down remember, Althea?"
She covered her mouth as she laughed heartily, "You know, at that time, I was dead-set on getting your attention too, even if it was my fighting ability rather than my looks I wanted you to notice."
"You succeeded on both fronts." Further pushing his fingers into her hair, he held it gently from behind pulling her head back so he could taste her lips. Her arms slid up around him drawing herself up closer to him. His other hand ran down to the small of her back, feeling the structured bodice beneath the plush material.
Before long the two were blindly making their way over to the couch across from the fireplace. The back of his knees hit first and he pulled both of them down upon the firm cushions. She straddled his lap, throwing off the extra pillows - even feigning innocence when she messed up his hair with one "accidentally" - before placing her hands on his shoulders. The deeper they kissed the more she rocked up against his body. Cursing himself for wearing his armor, he felt the pressure of her chest against his breastplate and shivered at the thought of what it would feel like not having it on - to feel the supple contours beneath her dress. He ran a hand up the length of her firm thigh with the hem of her dress trailing along as it caught on his vambrace. A finger traced the scar he had scored on her skin, which was rough enough to feel through the material of her stockings. As he roamed higher, to his surprise, no longer was there any fabric, only silky skin. He parted from her looking down to see that he had revealed a thick white lace band at the top of her mid-thigh stocking tied up by a ribbon.
He hooked a finger into it, "Is this a new uniform requirement for diplomatic trade meetings?"
She laughed lightly, "No, these are just for you." He swallowed hard at the thought of her picking them out just to entice him. "After my meeting, I was planning on slipping into your office quietly while you were working at your desk, sitting myself right in front of you and…" She hiked up the other side of the dress exposing her other leg while draping the bulk of the fabric behind her. A tingling heat pulsated within him as his eyes took in the sight of the woman whom he chased in his dreams.
"Oh, so all the soldiers coming in and out could see?" He quirked an eyebrow up at her shaking his head with some amusment. "So much for secrecy."
"It's completely conjecture now, especially since this worked out nicely." His hand began to trail up again thumbing her hip bone, surprised at how smooth the skin was the higher he went. Without looking he could feel it was untouched by scars or other marks. When he reached her bodice, his hands retreated back down to massage her thighs. Watching him intently as he studied her, she widened her hips, lowering herself down on the bulge forming between his legs.
As he stroked up and down, he couldn't help but brush against her smalls. When his calloused fingers slipped beneath the side of them, she gave a little smirk then brought her lips to his ear whispering, "Do you want to touch me, Rutherford?" As she awaited his answer, her lips suckled on his ear as his fingers now moved to explore her from underneath. When he reached his destination with only a thin satiny fabric between him and her femininity, a small breathy gasp escaped her, "I've longed for it."
He hummed in answer, letting his hand slide under her smalls. A finger rubbed at her folds as if they were the delicate petals of embrium for which she smelled of. Her breath hitched and her body arched slightly away from him grabbing hold of his knees behind her, positioning herself to give him better access. Dipping a finger into her wet quim, followed by a second, he curled his fingers massaging gently, paying close attention to her reaction. She moaned and sighed, rocking her hips on his hand. He watched her eyelids flutter shut and head roll back as her hair cascaded down like a waterfall. Truthfully, he was pleased that he remembered how to touch a woman as he watched her unraveling at his fingertips. Since South Reach - and perhaps even a bit before - his free time had been consumed by thoughts of her and the anticipation of a more physical relationship - her teasing only fueling his ardor. Such envisioned fantasies of intimacy with her helped him prepare for a situation such as this. Her eagerness in pursuing such a course only increased his own boldness and base desires. Any other time - with any other woman - he would have restrained himself, but she was no casual acquaintance; they existed on a different plane completely beyond any relationship he had ever had with anyone. He had allowed her to break down every barrier he had ever constructed around his true self. Yet having seen its ugliness, it seemed to have only brought them closer. The more he thought on it, the more he believed the Maker had sent her - a mage no less - to him, despite believing he didn't deserve her for his past sins.
As he picked up the pace, her breaths deepened as he watched her breasts heave laboriously with want. She used his breastplate to arch herself back up to him and her burning eyes searched him desperately for something followed by her fingers. Her right hand found its way down to his laces, pulling on them with an urgency. When her hand grazed his defined erection, he involuntarily bucked up into her hand. Maker, how long had it been since another woman touched him, for he groaned unexpectantly at the contact.
She leaned back to kiss him never breaking their rhythm as her hand stayed down in his lap blindly loosening his pants. Each wanton moan of his name hardened him more and he felt the primal urge to thrust into her, but he had more restraint than that. With the laces undone, she pushed down the remaining fabric which concealed him without resistance from him. He felt his face flush as her eyes devoured the sight of him in such a state of vulnerability. A gentle finger circled his head teasingly which was enough to make him breathe as heavily as if he was trying to lift a boulder thrice his weight. She adjusted to straddling just his right leg, giving her hand more room to work.
He didn't trust his voice, but thankfully it held strong, "Do you have to go to this meeting? Can't Josephine handle it without you?"
"Unfortunately, no," her hand continued to work on him, never stopping its tantalizing exploration, though her heavy brown-eyed gaze met his. "You see, I work with this pushy man who is always in need of new arms and armor for his men. So, I have to go convince this Lord to sell me a mine on his land. This way, I can get the metal he requires."
He chuckled, "Well, I do need it."
"Is that all you need?" Her perfectly round lips curved into a smirk. A growl accompanied by a thrust of his hips answered her. Spurred on by his reply she stood retrieving his wet fingers from her. She offered them to him as she parted his legs to kneel between them. Her forearms rested on his taught thighs as she watched him suck her sweet nectar off of him. A warm tongue trailed the length of his cock up to the tip making him breathe in sharply. A small moan escaped him as his head fell back for a moment overtaken by blissful pleasure at her touch. For all the times he had imagined it, nothing could've prepared him for the sensation of searing heat that ripped through his very being.
When he looked back down blinking a few times to make sure this was real, he noticed she was working both she and him. Grabbing onto the edge of the seat cushion, Cullen fixed his eyes on the fire goddess as the hot breath from her pants made him tingle as he awaited what evidently was coming next. As her lips slid down his length, a wave of molten desire rippled through him tensing his muscles. The warm wetness of her mouth and throat was overwhelming his senses. Evelyn's tounge swirled around his crown, tasting him for the first time and she voiced her pleasure at it. Pressure began to build in his head and groin until everything around him disappeared leaving the two of them in a nameless void.
Her breaths sharpened and before he realized what was happening she came. With her mouth still on him, her writhing and cries of release gave a new sensation to the feeling inside her mouth bringing him to the precipice. Her free hand grabbed his leg as if the wave from her pleasure would sweep her away. Her tongue flicked wildly slashing and curling around him until...
"Evelyn," he breathed out attempting to warn her, but a second later he was already coming. A hand flew to her head holding her down on him as he moaned, pumping his spend into her. She slowed her movements to gentle caresses until she released him to swallow. Looking up at him she wiped a finger to a milky drop that had escaped the side of her mouth, which she slipped back in with a satisfied hum. He grabbed her waist pulling her back onto his lap with ease, for as tall and muscular as she was, her limbs were rendered useless. Circling her in his arms, they sat there still dazed listening to the beating of their hearts. Searching to find words that would accurately describe what he was feeling, he instead kissed her lovingly unsure if such words existed. He tasted a slight saltiness on her lips and tongue, as she melted against him. They continued this course until reason and feeling returned to them. As he thumbed the long scar on her lower cheek, a slight hint of worry appeared.
"Cullen, I'm sorry I just... it wasn't too much, too soon was it?"
"No, no don't apologize. I should've... did you think it was?"
Relieved, she smiled shaking her head before he began to grow concerned that he had rushed things. "No, I just care for you so much and… I don't want to mess it up. This isn't young love, having both had our experiences, I just feel like this is right. I'm not sure any of that made sense." She searched his eyes finding the mutual understanding which he harbored there. Soon though, that same hungry look returned as she stroked his stubble, "I couldn't help myself." Raptor eyes cut their way down his body to his exposed member, which he promptly tucked away back into his pants. He couldn't help the flush that invaded his cheeks and forehead. Noticing it, she pecked soft kisses on each, "I look forward to seeing the rest of you that bare in the future."
"As am I, unless you plan to tease me relentlessly?" She laughed mischievously giving him a love bite to the sensitive spot between the ear and throat. He grunted trying to pull away, "What's that for?"
"Payback for South Reach." Evelyn stood and walked over to throw back some water and inspected herself in the mirror. She began to hum while fixing her hair into something not as intricate as before, but still regal in style. Cullen was content to lazily flex his appendages out of their jelly-like state and watch her from where he sat. "Are you going to Bull's dragon-slaying celebration tonight at the tavern?" She looked at him through her mirror. "He sent for some kind of Qunari drink that he promised would "put some chest on my chest." No doubt I'll be rightly sauced before midnight."
"I wasn't planning to, despite his invitation. He did give me fair warning letting me know some of the men may not be fit for duty come sunrise. I've tried to speak with the Lieutenants about keeping an eye on their men, but…"
"I'll keep an eye out for trouble… while I can. If I'm there no one is likely to get too rowdy anyway. Besides, with the way Bull is talking up how strong this drink is, we may all go from buzzed to sit-there-like-a-slug drunk anyway."
"In that case, perhaps I should go. I could at least make sure you got back to quarters alright."
"And here I was thinking I'd just stumble over to your office and crash for the night," she turned having finished, giving him a cheeky smile.
"You stumbling across the ramparts sauced worries me far more than a dragon attack on Skyhold."
She laughed, "Very well, come find me when you're done with your work." He gave her a knowing look, "I meant when you're done your work for the evening. Is that better? Now, I have to go to this meeting before Josie stomps up here and starts asking questions of the two of us."
Later that evening as Skyhold quieted, Cullen tried his best to get through the upcoming week's rosters, guard rotations and training schedules, but the noise from the inn, though not excessive, was too much for him to ignore. He was not so possessive as to want to keep an eye on her, rather he was looking forward to sharing a bed with her for the night. Not that there would be any lovemaking or the like in her state, but the feel of her against him as she slept was desirous in its own rights having been denied the pleasure earlier in the day. He had always slept alone and up until only recently he lamented not having someone to find comfort in at the end of the day.
He wondered how he had never felt such a void in his life before when the idea that lyrium had filled that hole struck him funny. The more he brooded over it, the more he came to realize while taking lyrium there were certain things that he never knew he was missing. The lyrium had amplified certain characteristics and dulled others, such as his need for comfort or companionship. It was if he lived his life in a hazy form of reality, though he did his job well and was willing to throw morals to the wind at times, there were things that weighed heavier upon him now than when he took lyrium. How could his treatment of mages in the past not have bothered him? He was full of anger at the time, but did the lyrium create a veil around his true self for the sake of completing his duty? Before he could question it further and bring on a headache, he threw on his mantle and headed out into the night.
Though it was earlier than they planned, he walked down the stairs taking the longer route in the hopes someone might delay him having been too eager to wait for midnight. Perhaps she'd be ready to leave by now anyway if the drinks were indeed as strong as Bull claimed. Having no such luck, he passed by some of his men outside of The Herald's Rest getting some air. They sloppily saluted him, but he simply nodded without a reprimand. Inside, he found the Inquisitor and her companions - Owayne, Sorin, Henley, Ilara, Varric, Dorian, Sera, Blackwall, Bull, Krem and even Cassandra - seated around a long table. He took a brief moment to watch her as a large smile and merry laugh brightened her face. He almost hated to take her away from the group knowing she could use a break, but upon seeing him her face lighted even more before it darkened with desire. He thanked the Maker, that everyone seemed too preoccupied or drunk to notice the look for there was no mistaking it.
"Cullen!" Bull roared holding his cup up to him. A slew of embarrassing greetings from the rest of the intoxicated group followed, such as 'Curly', 'Lion of Ferelden' and even a 'Cully Wully' was shouted alerting all to his presence. "You finally made it!" They scrambled trying to make room for him as drinks and even people were toppled in the attempt. He tried to stop them, but a glance to the youngest Trevelyan told him it was fruitless. He held his tongue until they were settled, even if Sera had not righted herself from off the floor before he broke the news.
"Actually," he turned to Evelyn looking as serious as possible, "Inquisitor, there's a matter of urgency that has come up. I apologize, but it must be addressed immediately." She stood with a huff as if he was inconveniencing her. Walking to him as if she was out at sea, she thanked Bull in passing for the evening of diversion and for the drink.
"May I offer you my arm, Inquisitor?"
"Yes, thank you. That would be most helpful," and they turned to leave back out the front door.
Before getting more than a few feet away, Cassandra jabbed a finger to his breastplate, "Just don't mark up her neck too badly this time."
"I-- What?!" The whole tavern muted slightly at his thunderous voice.
"Come on, Commander," Evelyn pulled him along as he stuttered looking back at the Seeker wondering at her words. Reaching the door and holding it open for her, she whispered as she passed, "I'll explain later."
By the grace of Andraste, they made it to his quarters and up the ladder without incident. He locked the doors, signaling to all that he was unavailable having retired for the evening. He lit a solitary candle on his nightstand, looking about his meager room suddenly feeling guilty for not insisting upon taking her back to her luxurious quarters. He didn't need much, in fact, if it had come to it he could've been happy sleeping in a field tent on Skyhold's grounds. The fresh crisp air was soothing on his inflamed body as it fought against the lyrium withdrawal. He had been asked time and time again by the mason when he could fix the gaping hole in his ceiling, but he came up with excuses easily enough. He knew though, it was a huge problem when it came to the Keep's structural integrity and would need to be repaired at some point.
Despite the state of disrepair, everything else remained neat as The Order had drilled into him. Clothes were folded in his chest, armor was always placed on his stand ready to be put on at a moment's notice, weapons placed about - including a dagger discreetly slipped under his mattress - and personal letters sat under the weight of a broken stone from the ceiling. Since South Reach, he endeavored to separate his work from personal life, though Evelyn was blurring the divide. Trying to keep his health in consideration he had forbid himself to bring work up into his room, which was a start.
After getting out of his armor, he sat on the bed and turned his back unlacing his boots giving her privacy if she needed it. Raised to be a gentleman, he did not venture a peek or the like when he heard the rustling of clothes being tossed and discarded about.
"So, Cassandra knows about us?"
"Yes, and Ilara thanks to you marking your territory on my neck."
"Ah, so that's why you…," he pointed to the spot on his neck where she had tried to leave a mark earlier. He heard a 'Mmhmm' from somewhere inside a shirt or whatnot, but still didn't turn around. Instead, he pulled his own shirt over his head and left it on the floor beside the bed as usual in case he needed to redress quickly. It dawned on him that he probably should have left it on in case she got the wrong idea, and as he went to put it back on he felt her weight on the bed coming toward him. Her hands traced their way about the scars on his back as soft kisses trailed up from his shoulder to cheek.
"Can I wear that?" He gave a quick look over his shoulder to see what she was referring to, and when he caught her eyeing his shirt, he offered it readily. She slipped it on, but he also heard the rustle of her leather pants shortly after. When her hand gripped his arm and pulled him to face her they collapsed on the bed. They faced each other with her smiling as he just took in the sight of her swimming in the fabric of his white shirt. He could tell she still wore her undergarments, but his shirt was not long enough to hide any part of her shapely legs. He had unlaced the collar to take it off which made it just wide enough for her to slip a shoulder through. In a childish manner, she buried her face in the pillow and sheets as if trying to burrow down into them. Her head turned to the side revealing a mischievous smile on the half of it he could see.
"Smells like you. I'm in the lion's den," a giggle followed. He had almost forgotten she was drunk.
"Andraste preserve me, is that what we're calling it? Does that mean your quarters is the Phoenix's nest?"
She rolled to face him completely with a look of disgust, "That sounds dreadful, we'll have to work--," a large yawn escaped her, "on that." She blinked a few times trying to clear the sleepiness from her eyes to no avail.
He gave a tired chuckle, "Get some rest, Trevelyan. We have to get up early if we want to avoid the first patrol, remember?" They had planned it as they walked from her quarters earlier; she would wear a cloak and they pretend to just be talking and walking the ramparts during the first patrol change. No one would see she was wearing the same clothes as the night before or even be up just before first light. If seen, they would just be walking chatting about the completed repairs then part ways. Both were known to be early risers, so overall there was little in the way of suspicion if questioned that they couldn't refute. He held up his arm and she scooted her back up against him. The feel of her was as wonderful as he had thought it'd be. He grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over them, forgetting for a moment that she liked to be warm - very warm. After a few minutes of quiet, he noticed she was nudging him purposely with her ass.
"Something on your mind, Rutherford?" There was no mistaking what she was referring to.
He couldn't help but chuckle softly as he nestled closer to her. "I have a beautiful woman in bed beside me, you can hardly blame me," he whispered playfully. His words carried a hint of desire, though he quickly reassured her, "But don't misunderstand, I have no intentions other than laying here falling asleep beside you."
Her laughter hummed in response, a soft and contented sound that resonated deep within him. With a gentle twist, she turned toward him, briefly capturing his bottom lip with a tender kiss, before deepening their connection with one last passionate exchange. And then, they settled back into their embrace, cuddling in the moonlit glow that streamed through the hole in the roof. Dust particles floated through the ethereal illumination, shimmering like tiny specks of polished metal, creating a dreamlike ambiance around them. The cool hue of the moonlight cast a serene tranquility over the room as if time itself had paused to witness their union.
Gradually, Evelyn's breathing slowed and deepened, signaling her descent into a tranquil slumber. The arm he had lovingly wrapped around her was embraced tightly by her hands and arms, creating a sense of security and warmth. Cullen let his face rest against the back of her head, savoring the sweet scent of vanilla and embrium that clung to her, a fragrant reminder of her unique essence. As his eyes slowly closed, he surrendered himself to the peacefulness of the moment. All thoughts of the demanding workload that awaited him on his desk, the headaches that plagued him, and the haunting nightmares that lurked in the depths of his mind were momentarily forgotten. In this precious instance, it was just the two of them, entwined in a cocoon of affection and serenity.
***
There were only three days left to prepare for the trip to the Winter Palace. Everything seemed to be in place from the packing to the plan. She was proud of her team and everything they were able to accomplish since the attack on Haven. Their efforts were making an impact across all of Thedas and more and more people flocked to their banner every day. Some came wanting to be trained to fight, others offered their trade skills to the Inquisition. Skyhold was quickly civilizing the Frostbacks growing itself into a power to be reckoned with. Even if they lacked the culture of refined society - though she'd never admit such a thing to Josephine who worked to correct that tirelessly - there was culture to be had and shared as every race in Thedas was accepted in service to the cause. It was becoming fashionable to be allied with the Inquisition since the Herald of Andraste had declared war on Corypheus. Yet, for a beast claiming with such fervor his divine righteousness, he was being awfully quiet.
Evelyn couldn't help but feel that everything was too good to be true. She paced on the landing of the tall staircase where they had made her Inquisitor, taking in the view now that the reconstruction efforts had finished and Skyhold's walls stood stronger than ever. A chill from the south ruffled through her olive-green dress. Looking up, a flock of birds soared over the ramparts towards dark clouds. Following their path, she noticed a small caravan in the distance. Next thing she knew, an out-of-breath scout was next to her informing her the crest on the carriages was that of House Trevelyan. A stronger gust of wind helped to freeze her in place paralyzed. All she could do was move her lips, telling the scout to inform the Lady Ambassador. After that, her mind went blank as her eyes fixed on the road.
When she saw the horses pulling the carriages across the bridge a mix of emotions caught her off guard. Who from her family was visiting? Did something happen that warranted a visit in-person? Why didn't she have advance notice? Holding up her dress she rushed down the stairs from where she stood to the Lower Courtyard. Her quick footwork, even in flats, took her people by surprise as the Inquisitor nervously descended dodging them as she went. She beat the carriages to the yard as they just cleared the portcullis. Her heart was thumping out of her chest, though it wasn't from the stairs and she trembled with both excitement and trepidation anxiously waiting to see who stepped from the caravan. A gloved hand slowly moved the curtain from the window aside before retreating. The footman dismounted to open the door at the convenience of its passenger. With a knock from inside, he opened the door.
Out stepped Lady Bann Trevelyan with her nose stuck up in the air looking from side to side ignoring her daughter before her. She may be the only person in all of Thedas who would dare to snub the Herald of Andraste and Leader of the Inquisition in such a manner. After giving Skyhold a quick inspection, she daintily planted a foot in the light mud of the courtyard. She made a disgusted noise as she dirtied her fine shoes, "Evelyn dear, you really should do something about the state of this place. You either do not get many visitors or you are woefully unprepared for them."
"Nice to see you as well, Lady Mother. And this is a fortress which could come under attack at any time, not a mountain retreat." She flashed her best sarcastic smile despite having not seen her mother in over a year.
"A fortress can still be less muddy."
"Why are you here? And why didn't you send word?"
"I think I taught you better manners than that, dear. Your brother tells me you don't read any of the letters I send, so I made the dreadful journey down here to you. We have business to discuss with everything in Thedas changing, including your new status." A conniving grin brightened the sharp features of her aging face.
"Business? What business?" Evelyn's expression darkened at her mother's puckered smile.
"I've brought a surprise for you, I've picked him out myself since you seemed to want no say in the matter. He will do nicely for you and the family."
"Oh, mother. Whoever the poor man is send him home before I'm forced to embarrass him. How dare you make such a decision on my behalf!"
"I'm your mother and you still have family obligations to honor. Marrying this man will be a great boon to our house."
"I'm the Inquisitor. There are politics and such to consider. Matters such as this now get reviewed by my advisors, not you!" She could care less about politics when it came to personal matters, but she'd throw any excuse at her mother to halt this descent into madness.
Her mother ignored her and hooked arms dragging her over to the second carriage. Evelyn wasn't the type to throw her title at people, but her mother's complete disregard and disrespect of her were incredibly infuriating. She had a mind to send her back on her way immediately, but what would people say of the treatment toward her own mother? Once in front of the carriage, she turned to face her daughter whispering so that the man inside could not hear, "He is a bit shy and asked when he met you to have a few minutes with you in the carriage alone."
"Good, then I can reject him in there," she whispered back.
"Evelyn Althea Trevelyan you will do no such thing! This will be done properly as I have raised you to do. Go!" With that, the door was opened and her mother pushed her in with alarming force for such a lady.
Evelyn climbed into the seat opposite of this poor sod her mother had dragged across half of Thedas for her to reject. This was so typical of her mother to show up and already try to turn her life on its head. Tucking a stray hair out of her face she looked up to the occupant of the carriage with an exasperated look, "My apologies, there seems to have been some misunderstanding--"
"There's no misunderstanding, Trevelyan," his voice pierced through the air, causing it to vanish from the cramped confines of the carriage. Evelyn's breath caught in her throat, her body frozen in a state of shock and terror. She instinctively reached for the door handle, her fingers trembling with desperation, but her actions were swiftly thwarted as he locked it, trapping her inside. Before her, a figure sat, a man she believed to be dead, Ser Ryker Aeron. It was as if she were staring into the eyes of a ghost, her mind reeling with disbelief.
Her power surged within her, a trembling force ready to be unleashed, and even the mark on her hand crackled with unease, sensing the imminent threat to its host. "Now, now, kill me, and Corypheus will find himself in possession of one of these," he jeered, revealing a phylactery concealed within his coat. Dread gripped her heart, panic etched upon her face, while he relished in her fear, his wicked smile a chilling sight. He sensed her mana subsiding, like a predator toying with its prey. "I will explain more later, but for now, all you need to do is pretend that we just met. You will call me Lord Einar Armand, and I'm here as a suitor. Understand?"
Her thoughts raced in a frenzy, a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Should she strike him down now, regardless of the consequences? But what about the phylactery and the possibility of Corypheus obtaining it? Ryker was cunning and calculated, leaving no loose ends in his plans. Did he duplicate her phylactery? The uncertainty gnawed at her, fueling her hyperventilation, as her mind grappled with the impossible choices before her. With each breath, she tore through the silk lining of the carriage, her nails leaving behind the marks of her inner turmoil.
"Let me out," she managed to spit through gritted teeth, her voice laced with a mix of fury and desperation.
"I see we've forgotten our place in the mere year since we last saw each other. Rest assured, that will be righted," he taunted, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. With a click, the door unlocked, and he extended his hand, a mocking gesture for her to exit first. Taking a deep breath, Evelyn fought to regain her composure, her ears filled with the growing cacophony of voices outside the carriage.
Opening the door wearing the mask of the Inquisitor, Josephine and her team straightened waiting to receive their orders. Afraid that her voice would come out as nothing but a squeak, she smoothed her dress and fixed her posture in an attempt to calm her nerves. "Ambassador Montilyet, this is Lord Einar Armand a guest of my mother's. Please see to their rooms immediately as they have need of them to rest from their long journey." If they went directly there, the less chance he would be seen before I have time to deal with it. "I would like to host a private dinner for them in my quarters tonight and tomorrow they can get the full tour of Skyhold."
"I think, I'll take dinner in my room, Evelyn dear. This horrid trip has left me quite exhausted. You do have actual rooms, I won't be put in a field tent or stable, will I?"
The Inquisitor ran a weary hand down her face, the weight of her mother's insolence no longer deserving of her attention. "As you wish, Mother. Rest assured, you will be assigned a guest room," she muttered, surprising even herself with the flat tone of her voice. Lady Trevelyan raised an eyebrow in response, taken aback by her daughter's uncharacteristic behavior. Before any further exchanges could take place, Josephine's team swiftly whisked her mother away, providing a much-needed respite from her suffocating presence.
"I would be delighted to dine with you, Lady Trevelyan. It's not every day one meets the Herald of Andraste." He bowed with a practiced finesse and gave a dashing smile. Good, she thought, better they are alone any way to discuss exactly how he had tricked her mother and stole her phylactery. And maybe, just maybe, she would even have the chance to kill him.