Evie woke first, unused to having another person in her bed. It startled her a moment before she remembered who it was and why he was there. She smiled to herself, keeping still so she wouldn't wake him. Tai had his arm draped loosely over her waist, his other arm under her head.
Last night had been... interesting. Good. But interesting. She had expected a bit more awkwardness given what they were doing, but their ease and comfort with each other had extended to the more intimate circumstances, which had been a relief.
They had learnt a fair bit last night, about themselves and each other.
"Are you all right, Eves?" Tai asked, his speech slurred and his voice sleep-fogged.
"I am. Are you all right, Tai?"
He chuckled quietly; she could feel her hair shift with his breath behind her. "I am."
Her bedchamber doors swung open, her handmaid entering with a bright smile and a pleasant good morning that quickly died at the sight of them. Tai sat up quickly, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to protect her modesty. Rula had seen Evie undressed many times during the course of her duties.
"I—I'll give you a few moments," she said, ducking into a quick bow before disappearing the way she'd come.
"How long before it circulates through the castle and beyond it? Do you think the Renvars will hear of it today?" He asked.
"Hopefully."
"Alistair is going to kill me," Tai pointed out.
"I will take full responsibility," she assured him. "I asked you to do this."
"And I could have said no."
But they so very rarely said no to each other. It wasn't an agreement—it was understanding. They questioned each other, yes, challenged each other's thinking, and pushed each other, but she couldn't recall a single moment when either had denied the other anything of true importance. What they had went beyond the familiar boundaries of friendship. A trust so complete it was as ingrained in them as their own names.
"Everything will be fine, Tai," she promised.
Whether it would make it to her father, she didn't know. She did expect it would do the rounds amongst the servants.
Her words, or the conviction in them, seemed to set him at ease, and he looked at her a moment, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"I don't regret it," he said.
"Nor do I. Thank you."
"Thank you," he replied, getting out of bed and gathering his clothes.
She looked away to give him some semblance of privacy, unsure why. She had seen more of him than she ever had last night.
When he went to the door, he looked back at her. "This wasn't a favour. I hope you know that, Eves."
Evie nodded. She hadn't known it until just now, but if he was fine with that, then so was she.
"I'll meet up with you later?" He asked.
She nodded again, and he disappeared out the door. Evie got up and slipped on her nightgown before letting Rula back in to help her get ready for the day. Evie could feel Rula's eyes on her now and again, assessing, calculating, but she never said a word of what happened. For which Evie was grateful. She didn't want to talk about it with anyone. But she knew she would have to eventually.
-
It was mid-afternoon when Evie was summoned to Queen Anora's private garden, Erlina fetching her from where she and Tai had been playing with the mabari pups at the kennels.
Queen Anora had very rarely summoned Evie like this, and she could hazard a guess at what it was about going by the dissecting gaze Erlina fixed her with.
Evie had expected it to make it to the queen but hoped it spread further before she could contain it.
Queen Anora had a beautiful garden, especially this time of year, as it was in full bloom. Marble benches gleamed in the afternoon light, positioned so conversations were private but its particpants clearly visible from the castle windows.
Evie settled herself with practiced grace.
"Thank you for joining me," Queen Anora said, her voice soft, but ice flowed underneath it. She gestured to the tea between them. "Chamomile. It calms the nerves."
The implication that Evie might need calming hung in the air.
"Thank you, your Grace, you're very kind," she replied, hiding behind formality.
Queen Anora smiled, absent any sense of joy. "I've always tried to be, despite our... complicated situation." She took a moment to sip her tea. "I understand your friendship with Tairyn has evolved." Her eyes met Evie's, knowing and sharp. "Into something more intimate."
Evie remained silent and still.
"My dear," she said, setting her teacup down. "I don't judge you. Young hearts are passionate things. And you've always had a remarkable talent for... creative problem solving."
The queen's smile never wavered, but something sharp flickered beneath the sweet facade.
"I'm not sure I understand, your Grace," Evie lied.
"No?" She tilted her head, studying Evie. "I find that difficult to believe, given the timing. I begin arranging your marriage to Master Renvar's son, and suddenly you decide to give yourself to young Tairyn. Not in secrecy, not with discretion, but with a lack of just enough caution to ensure the information would reach the right ears."
So it had reached the right ears? Evie maintained her composure, her stomach roiling.
"It was clever, in its way. You found a way to make yourself unsuitable without appearing to directly defy anyone." Her voice dropped to a murmur. "You sacrificed a pawn to protect your queen. I recognise the strategy."
That was where she was wrong. She hadn't sacrificed Tai, and he was well aware of all her reasons for asking him.
"I care for Tai," Evie told the Queen.
"Love and strategy aren't mutually exclusive," she said dismissively.
"What happens now?" Evie asked.
"Now I find myself in the unexpected position of admiring your tactics while addressing the consequences. Master Renvar has a second cousin—a widower, older, less prestigious, but still useful, and cares little for the history of his bride."
It wasn't enough. Instead of being bartered off to the son, she was being given to the cousin. She hadn't wanted to go to her father and beg him to stop this, afraid he was in agreement the entire time. He had been considering separating her and Tai; perhaps Queen Anora was able to push him over that line.
"Your father has yet to hear of your actions, but it's only a matter of time. I will intercede on both your and young Tairyn's behalfs when that time comes. And you will ensure this new arrangement does not become untenable as well."
How else could she do that? A sudden religious calling?
"And here, drink this," the queen added, pushing a separate cup her way, a faintly purple liquid inside. "Pennyroyal tea. To ensure no other consequences arise from last night."
Evie took the cup, a fragrance almost like mint wafting from it.
She hadn't even considered that possible consequence.
-
Evie ruminated on what Queen Anora had said, the new arrangement she was to accept. The entire idea of it filled her with a dread that made her ill and listless. It—and what terrible things may lie in store for her future—was never far from her mind.
Tai had, of course, noticed and insisted she take the matter to her father. He had the power to call the entire thing off. But if he did, it would be another strike to his reputation. And he would take that hit for her.
She didn't want to do that to him, but she couldn't marry this cousin either. She had heard things, far more unpleasant things than her former marriage candidate.
On heavy feet she made her way to her father's study. She hadn't been in it since her punishment a couple of weeks ago. There had also been a distance between herself and her father as well.
His study was a far cry from the queen's elegant garden. Books lined the walls in haphazard stacks, maps and papers were spread across his desk and other tables, and his sword belt hung carelessly over a chair. The scent of metal and the faintest trace of woodsmoke hit her, a comforting scent, one she had always associated with him.
He looked up from his desk when she entered, his face immediately brightening.
"Evie," he said warmly, rising to greet her. "Come in, sweetheart."
He must not know about what transpired between her and Tai. She crossed the threshold, rehearsed words dying on her lips when he hugged her. She held him tightly, having missed the casual affection.
"Father," she began, letting him go. "I spoke with Queen Anora and wanted to speak with you about the marriage arrangement."
"Yes, she told me of your decision," he said.
"My decision?"
"To accept Master Renvar's cousin." He clasped her shoulder. "I must admit, I was surprised."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet. "She told you I agreed?"
"Indeed. She said you recognised the importance of duty and that it was time to put aside the childish antics. It shows maturity, Evie."
He was happy about this marriage. He was proud of her for going through with it, she realised.
"I—" The words caught in her throat. How could she tell him now? How could she snatch back the genuine approval and pride in her? The hope that she was finally growing up. "I wanted to discuss the terms," she said instead.
"Of course. What concerns you?"
"The timing. I'd just...rather not rush it."
His gaze became speculative, concerned. "If you'd rather not do it at all, Evie—"
"No, I—I can do it."
"I know you can, but do you want to? I understand there is quite an age gap, and you're so very young. If this isn't what you want..."
It wasn't. But he had looked so hopeful and proud and even relieved just moments ago. Did the crown need the Renvar's coin that badly?
"If I did, and we backed out, wouldn't your reputation suffer?"
His expression softened, a faint smile playing at his lips. "My reputation has weathered far worse storms than this."
Her birth. His continued inclusion of her in his family and court. And now here she was to strike another blow to it.
He took her face in his hands, tilting her head to look up at him. "I can call this off. Just say the word."
To tell him the truth would brand her once again as the troublesome bastard, the complication, the problem that needed solving.
"No," she uttered softly, the word resounding about her skull. "No need for that."
"I know things haven't always been easy for you," he told her. "But this choice, it shows character. Strength. I've heard he's fair-minded. Not cruel."
Had he? Evie had heard the opposite.
"I've heard he's a widower. Was it his soulmate he lost?"
Alistair shook his head. "I'm not sure of the status of his soulmate, but I do know his wife wasn't it."
Silence settled over them as she thought about it. What would the man do if his soulmate did appear? Marriages had been dissolved over them before, so long as both parties and the Chantry were in agreement.
"I should go," she said, making excuses about duties elsewhere, and she made for the door.
"Evie," he called, a sadness to his smile. "You would have made a fine heir had circumstances been different."
His words were the final weight that crushed her resolve to dust.
"Thank you," she whispered, practically fleeing his study.