Bad Blood

Prologue

The minute hand lazily moved as the pendulum of the wall clock rhythmically ticked. He waited for the twelve loud gongs of midnight in his study, perusing some documents and reports, letting out a care-worn sigh as revised the monthly expenses of his election campaign. He frowned how much he spent on pamphlets and badges, and he lamented how much he would spend as the race would really begin. It was a hard competition this year since the mayor who ran the city for twenty years suddenly resigned. He smelled a juicy scandal, but everybody - even his friends in his inner circle claimed - he just got tired of keeping things together, especially since that agitator had shown up in the Dregs and the number of the uprisings increased. A strong hand was needed, an iron fist to keep the law and order. His hands, preferably.

"Kaily," he called for his housekeeper, hoping she was still up in this late hour. He had never really given her instructions about her working hours, it was never a matter of negotiation between them.

He didn't maintain a big household at his Denerim estate, only a part-time cook, and his loyal housekeeper, Kaily. She had been with the family since her childhood. An orphan from the Alienage, her parents both died in a flu epidemic. He was a young man when she began to serve at the household as a kitchen maid, she was only ten. And now when he was in his mid-fifties, she was still with him, never married, being far over her best maiden days and looked much older than her years indicated.

The big oak door opened and a shy, slightly humped figure emerged from the dull light of the hall. "Yes, Master?" she asked timidly. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red from recent crying. He heard her crying a lot these days and despite feeling sorry for whatever happened to her, he was annoyed. Kaily was efficient and silent, keeping clean his home. She spoke when asked, but this constant weeping drove him crazy.

He swiftly signed another invoice and looked at the housekeeper. "Did you pack my luggage?"The maid quickly nodded."Yes, Master," She fidgeted with her white apron, looking down obediently. "I readied your black suit with the white stripes and the burgundy tie for tomorrow. I-I polished your black Oxford shoes, prepared it next to your luggage."

He thoughtfully hummed. "Thank you, Kaily, you can go and rest. I will depart after breakfast, I would like boiled eggs and sausage," he instructed her before dismissing. She nodded quickly and turned to leave without a word, opening the great oak door once again.

"Kaily?" he called her again a moment later.

The housekeeper with a shy move turned back to him and lowered her reddened blue eyes. "Yes, Master?"

"What is wrong?' he asked, with genuine concern in his voice this time. He did care about her in his own way, they spent almost two decades together, she knew his every whim and needs better even a wife could have. He never considered marriage. Well, it wasn't entirely true. He knew there wasn't a woman as perfect as Kaily in caring, but she, as awful as it sounded, was ugly. She never invoked any desire in him, even in her younger days.

The housekeeper lowered her head, hunched her back more, and shook his head, her alkaline burned hands clutched around her stomach. "Nothing, Master... I just have some stomach ache."He leaned back, studying the girl with his pen tapping softly on the mahogany surface of his large desk. He considered his words for a moment. "When I return from Orlais, we should discuss expanding the household here in Denerim."

"But Master-" she protested, but he stopped her with a gesture.

"You are too overwhelmed, you could use help," he said, leaning back in his seat more. "Besides, If everything goes well, we will spend much more time in Denerim."

The housekeeper nodded. "Of course, Master..." she clumsily curtsied and left.

He sighed and reached for his handkerchief in his inner pocket to wipe his forehead when noticed the bright red lipstick mark on it, and a sweet lingering memory of the passed hours flooded him, as he carefully wiped some champagne beads from the soft lips. He sniffed the handkerchief if he could still feel her scent on it. He couldn't decide what drove him more insane. Those naughty little freckles on her skin, or her curvy hips in those clever little dresses.As the number of his years grew, he became sentimental and in some ways more reckless than in his youthful days. She was a few years younger than his loyal housekeeper, yet it felt decades divided between the two women in age. And beside her, he felt young again as listened to her tingling giggles and felt her soft touches and kisses or sparkling green eyes as she listened to him as he talked about his campaign and his doubts about his brother's marriage, never making him feel he was boring. In fact, she had her clever ruses to make him believe he was the only man on earth.

He knew her attention wasn't exclusively his. How it could have been? He was far over his glory days and she had younger, more powerful, or wealthier suitors than himself. What an old fool could offer her besides some jewels and furs? She was seemingly disinterested in such mundane pleasures money could buy. She beamed of course when he hooked that ruby bracelet on her wrist, but there was no lasting gratitude in her eyes. He assumed that little trinket was just one in her long line of gifts. She never asked for it, she never even implied, still, he felt it important to give that little something to her to ensure his place in her schedule after he returned from Orlais.He sighed as began to rummage his drawers for his passport. It was a time now he had to do any diplomatic task, but this one was too delicate to be trusted with a simple clerk of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The wounds of the war were still fresh and although Ferelden and Orlais fought on the same side, the peace written by blood was too fragile to jeopardize it by sending a less experienced diplomat than himself. Or at least that was in the King's order that a messenger brought for him a week before.

Despite the honor of the King's trust, he had no desire to go to Val Royeaux. Others, more pressing matters weighed his shoulder than a few classified documents in a sealed briefcase.He couldn't find his passport. "Kaily," he called for his housekeeper when he realized it was an ungodly hour to wake up that poor woman.

He sighed and rose from his desk, going to a kitchen and pouring a glass of wine for himself. He whirled the rich burgundy drink and an unwitting smile plastered on his lips when thought about that ginger-haired minx again, the way her soft freckled skin brushed his, and he felt his breeches tightening. He couldn't help but chuckle with the excitement even thinking of what she had done with him. An old fool like him falling for a young woman like her.

He walked back to his office, searched his desk again, and finally finding his diplomatic passport with the crest of Ferelden adorning the cover and leafed it before putting it beside the sealed briefcase.He collected his thoughts before rising from his seat to put himself in bed, when suddenly a sharp pain spiked through his head and a moment later fell on the floor, his limbs felt so heavy and so light at the same time. His vision blurred red and hot behind his eyes. With his fading heartbeat thundering in his temples like a death knell, everything went dark.