The Enchanter and The Lion

Chapter 42 - The Winter Palace - Pt 1

Maeve tried not to fidget in the carriage on the way from their lodging to the Winter Palace. She rode with Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra. The rest of their group, including the small contingent of soldiers serving as her honor guard, had gone ahead. 

"The political situation hangs by a thread and the empress worries our presence could sever it. Grand Duke Gaspard was all too happy to have us as his guests, likely just to spite his cousin," Josephine was saying.

"She knows, Josie," Leliana said, recognizing that the lecture was doing nothing to settle her anxiety. Josephine gave her an apologetic smile and remained quiet the rest of the ride.

When they arrived and the footman had helped them all down, she hung back looking up at the grandness of the palace with her mouth ajar. 

"We'll see you inside," Leliana smiled. 

She nodded and took several calming breaths. Okay, she said to herself, head up, shoulders back. You're Maeve Trevelyan, Senior Enchanter of Ostwick, Slayer of Demons, Closer of the Breach, and Herald of fucking Andraste.

She followed a portion of the honor guard, including Rylen, who unabashedly winked at her, making her smile in spite of herself, through the gates into the garden that surrounded the grand staircase leading up to the palace proper. The two columns of soldiers parted before her to line either side of the path and saluted as she passed between them. 

She felt dozens of pairs of eyes upon her and instantly wanted to shrink into the ground, but through sheer will kept head up and straight ahead, where she noted a gentleman approaching her and recognized him as Grand Duke Gaspard.

"My lady Inquisitor," he said, bowing slightly, "it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

She curtsied low, as befitted his higher rank, "Thank you, your grace. The honor is mine."

He gestured and she walked beside him as they made their way toward the stairs and entrance to the palace itself. 

"So, you battled an army of demons in the Western Approach, and an army of the undead in the Plains. Impressive. Imagine what the Inquisition could do with the full support of the rightful emperor of Orlais?" he said.

"You'll forgive me, your grace, but I have a dreadful time keeping all the lineages straight. Which one was the rightful one, again?" she smiled to indicate she was in jest...mostly.

"The handsome, charming one, of course," he replied with a chuckle, but then turned serious. "Just remember I do not forget my friends, Inquisitor."

"Duly noted, your grace."

They had arrived at the entrance to the palace where Josephine was waiting for her. "Inquisitor, a moment, please?" Gaspard continued on leaving them alone to talk.

"Remember, Maeve, how you address the court is paramount. Every word and gesture will be measured and evaluated. The grand game is like a game of wicked grace where the stakes are life and death."

"It's all right, Josie. You taught me well, and I will be careful," she squeezed her hands reassuringly.

"You were probably safer in the Fade with the Nightmare demon," she mumbled, breaking all rules and giving her a quick hug.

"Well, that's a cheerful thought."

Josephine sighed as they parted. "Everything will be fine." She smiled reassuringly, but as Maeve passed added under her breath, "Andraste watch over us all."

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Cullen was standing at the top of the stairs outside the ballroom entrance with the rest of the Inquisition's party, awaiting their turn to be announced before the court. His eyes were surveying the area for any potential threats, noting the choke points and areas where people could be concealed. They stopped their roving when they fell upon Maeve walking up the stairs next to Josephine, and he had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open. Maker, she was a vision.