Queen Of Ferelden

Chapter 7: The Masked Empire

The royal carriage rolled along the winding roads that cut through the picturesque Ferelden countryside. Elissa Cousland and Alistair, King of Ferelden, sat side by side within its plush interior, their journey to Orlais unfolding gradually over several days. The sun played hide-and-seek with fluffy clouds, casting intermittent shadows on the verdant fields and ancient forests that stretched as far as the eye could see.

It had been a journey marked by moments of quiet reflection and strategic planning. As the carriage rumbled over cobblestones and passed through quaint villages adorned with Ferelden banners, Elissa and Alistair discussed the delicate intricacies of Orlesian politics that awaited them in Val Royeaux. Commander Delisia, their trusted advisor and protector, remained vigilant, her gaze scanning the horizon for any signs of potential threats.

Each evening, they made camp under a canopy of stars, the crackling of a campfire providing a comforting backdrop to their discussions. Maps were unfurled, strategy devised, and plans adjusted as they delved deeper into the mystery of the traitor who threatened Ferelden's stability. They were united not only by duty but by a steadfast bond forged through years of shared trials and triumphs.

On the third day of their journey, the landscape began to change subtly. Rolling hills gave way to lush valleys dotted with wildflowers, and the scent of blooming lavender mingled with the crisp mountain air. The road widened as they approached the Ferelden-Orlais border, where Orlesian guards greeted them with polite formality before allowing them to continue their passage into foreign territory.

As Val Royeaux loomed closer on the horizon, anticipation mingled with caution in their hearts. The grandeur of Orlais was legendary, its capital city a glittering jewel of culture and intrigue. Elissa glanced at Alistair, her expression a mixture of determination and concern. "Do you think we can trust Empress Celene, Alistair?" she asked quietly, her voice carrying the weight of their shared responsibilities.

Alistair met her gaze, his own eyes reflecting the flickering sunlight filtering through the carriage windows. "She's a skilled diplomat," he replied thoughtfully. "But Orlais is a web of intrigue. We must proceed with caution, even within the walls of the Winter Palace."

Commander Delisia, seated opposite them, interjected with a note of pragmatism. "Your Majesties," she began respectfully, "we must prepare ourselves for the reception and the challenges that await us in Val Royeaux." 

Elissa nodded in agreement, casting a glance at Alistair. "You're right, Delisia," she replied thoughtfully. "We should change into our royal attire before we arrive at the Winter Palace."Alistair nodded in agreement. 

"It wouldn't do to meet Empress Celene in armor," he remarked with a faint smile. "We need to make a good impression."

The carriage slowed as it approached a secluded spot along the road, chosen for its privacy. Servants, traveling with them for such preparations, set up temporary privacy screens and brought forth trunks containing their regal garments. Delisia supervised the process with a practiced eye, ensuring security remained tight even in this private moment.

Elissa emerged from behind the screens, radiant in a gown of soft mauve silk that complemented her pale skin and blonde hair. The bodice was delicately embroidered with silver vines that shimmered in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The gown's flowing skirts pooled around her feet as she moved, each step a graceful dance of regal elegance. Her hair, a cascade of golden waves, was swept back and secured with a few silver combs adorned with amethyst accents.