It was Lady Marceline's turn to choose the tea for this evening. She had decided on a red tea from her homeland that she had a particular fondness for. It was supposedly healthy for the body, but it was the sweetness that she enjoyed the most. Alongside Estella, they were also joined by Leon, Vesryn, and Cyrus in her office for the evening. She'd not chosen her desk to host them, as it was presently covered in an inordinate amount of letters and papers. Apparently, everyone had an opinion of the Inquisition's involvement with the ascension of Orlais's newest Emperor, and were not afraid to share it with them. Some were positive, some were not, others were decidedly even less so. Still, it was a reaction she expected.
And also one she grew tired of very quickly. She was happy when it was time she was able to leave her desk to host tea with the others, even if it was only a few steps away from her mantelpiece. A tea kettle hung above the fire as they presently waited for the water to come to a boil. On the end tables on either side of the couch she sat on, the tea cups rested, partnered with biscuits, cookies, and even little finger sandwiches. It was a quaint little tea party, but she found herself enjoying the relaxing quiet they brought.
"Thank you all for coming, again," she reiterated, "I am glad not to be reading any more letters, at least for a little while." She tossed a wary glance back to her desk, and the correspondence that waited, before issuing a light chuckle.
“Dear Lady Marceline." Cyrus spoke in an almost whimsical tone, enunciating so as to give himself a rather spot-on upper-class Orlesian accent. “We have heard that the Inquisition was singlehandedly responsible for putting an honest man on our throne. This is a deep affront to our history and culture, and we demand a do-over. Sincerely, His Grace Ser Lord Roderick Ponce von Fontlebottom the younger, duke of some little place out in the sticks, but with vineyards." He sniffed, reaching forward to procure himself a biscuit before leaning back into the armchair he occupied, one leg resting over the opposite knee at the shin.
Estella snorted, clearly trying to contain laughter. "You forgot to include a vaguely-worded threat, Cy," she said. "No proper Ser Lord Duke of some little place out in the sticks would ever forget one of those." She raised an eyebrow, breaking a finger-sandwich in half. "Something like... 'I would be most displeased to hear that this matter had not been resolved within a fortnight.'" Her accent was actually quite good as well, but then that much at least was probably to be expected, with all the time she'd spent in the country.
"No mention of the armies of Venatori and twelve lyrium dragons we all had to fight off during the canarie?" Leon added dryly. "For shame, Ser Lord Roderick. At least give us our due."
"Excellent choice of tea, Lady Marceline," Vesryn added, apparently seeing no need to add on to the efforts of the others, though he appeared thoroughly amused by it all.
"You all laugh," Marceline said, laughing in spite of herself, "But you do not know how eerily similar that sounds." A few of the letters she received were indeed penned from estates in some far flung corner of Orlais, though obviously the names and titles they had created for themselves made it sound far more respectful than they actually were. In fact, one particular estate she could even not find on the map, and Larissa had never heard of it before. She actually held on to that one, and planned to dig into it later, just to sate her curiosity.
She smiled and nodded her appreciation for Vesryn, before she turned back toward the others. "I would be offended, if it were not at least partially true," she said with another laugh. "I shall save the better ones, so that you all may see for yourselves." It was right about then that the tea kettle began to whistle, and she began to attend to it. Using the poker that leaned against the fireplace, she used it to hook the hand of the kettle and fish it from the flames, setting it gently down on a woven coaster on a nearby table. The whistling faded as it cooled, and she sat back down as they waited for it to be handled without risking burns.
"It was a tea I was fond of back home," she revealed to Vesryn. "It is naturally sweet, and does not contain caffeine, so it will not keep you up at night. It is also good for your skin, I hear," she added, rubbing the top of her wrists to convey the point.
“If you save them, we can have a dramatic reading. I've been told I missed my calling in the theater." Cyrus's tone of voice suggested self-effacement more than anything, though the suggestion seemed real enough. “Perhaps searching for the good ones will make getting through the pile of them a little easier."
Apparently deciding the tea was cool enough, he poured a round for everyone, spooning... quite a lot of sugar into his. Apparently naturally sweet was insufficient to his purposes. He did hum approvingly when he took the first sip, however, so perhaps it was well enough.
Estella added honey to hers, as she had the last time, though less than before, in consideration of the blend, perhaps. Leon sniffed slightly at it before adding a dash of milk, but otherwise left it as it had been before.
"Surely some of them are supportive, though?" The lady Inquisitor set her spoon down with a slightly-troubled frown. "I know people who won't play the Game have never been popular in Court, but surely there are some who can see the advantages?"
"Yes, of course. A good number give their support," Marceline answered, taking her tea straight. "Most are sincere, I believe. There are a few that I feel are just attempting to curry favor with us, but that is to be expected. There will always be some who seek out opportunities for their own gain," she stated. It was through their intervention that Lucien now sat on the Orlesian throne, of course there would be a those who would want to get into the installing party's good graces. She had expected no less. However, it was the genuine articles that resonated with her.
She blew the steam from her tea before taking a sip, and decided that she had gotten the steeping time down perfectly this time. Nodding, she continued. "I have also read a few that send their thanks for helping put an end to the civil war," she said, leaning back into the couch. "Many chevaliers will return home to their families now that the throne is no longer contested. Despite the politics, many are grateful to just get their loved ones back safely." She was among them. As a Marshal, her father would still have work to be done before he could return home, but at least she no longer had to worry about him fighting.
Marceline glanced at her desk again, this time without the trepidation. She wondered if a letter from her mother had gotten mixed with the rest of the correspondence, though she would have to find out later. "I trust Lucien will manage to win the court's approval in spite of them. He will play the Game enough to keep them content, but I doubt he will let it affect his politics," she said kindly. "He is an honorable man, and I truly believe he will do what is best for our country."
“Ah, but that's a bit of a changed tune, isn't it?" Cyrus's eyes were keen. Even sitting back with a cup of tea on his knee and a biscuit half-submerged in it, he managed to seem a bit like a housecat: lazy until provoked by something curious or interesting, and then surprisingly quick. “Your entire family were loyalists. Only a fool would believe Lucien was never an option until Halamshiral itself, which means you didn't quite come out of that with what you wanted, did you Lady Marceline?" He kept his tone on the rather light level of the conversation so far, but admittedly the query was rather pointed.
Marceline frowned, but she took the question in stride. She never tried to insert her own political opinions into Inquisition matters. She had always tried to act in the best interests of the Inquisition, in spite of her own beliefs. That being said, she never had reason to express her political ideas to the others, as it never came up in conversation. "We ended the civil war, and we now have the support of the Empire, I daresay I did get what I want Cyrus," she said taking a sip of her tea. "The rest of my family may not be as pleased with the outcome, but they cannot argue with the results."
She did wonder how her father would take it, however. He was a Marshall in Celene's army, and she wondered if he would take her failure as his. She shook her head and leaned back in the couch, casting another glance to Cyrus. "My support of the Empress--former Empress, I suppose I should say say now, was not as strong as it once was. By the time the you all collected me in Val Royeaux for the Inquisition, I barely considered myself a loyalist at all."
"Not that I'm against the outcome we got in the Winter Palace," Vesryn said, setting down his cup for the moment and pulling one leg up to rest across his other knee, "far from it, but the results for Orlais are certainly different than they are from our perspective. If that makes sense." He shrugged, perhaps doubting his ability to put political ideas in the correct terms. He rarely weighed in on these matters, after all.
"I don't doubt much of Orlais didn't want to give so much as a sovereign of support to us. Their war ended, but neither of the sides who fought and died now see their leader on the throne. The man sitting on it now has experience in leading a mercenary company, not an empire, and he has as great a task before him as perhaps any Emperor of Orlais that came before." His eyes wandered over to Estella for a moment before they came back to Marceline.
"I was all for removing Celene from power, but I expect the rest of Orlais can and will argue with the results. I hope it won't leave relations with your family... strained, or anything. Simply for doing your job and acting in the interest of the Inquisition."
"Then again," Leon added, shrugging his large shoulders. "The opposite is true as well. No one sees an enemy they've come to hate sitting there, either. Perhaps that will turn out to be a bigger favor for unification than anything. And reconciliation—even in the more personal cases." It seemed to be meant as a sort of encouragement, though he was hardly the most graceful at giving such things.
Marceline smiled gratefully at both Leon and Vesryn, "Thank you both for your concern. While our politics have... diverged in the recent years, we have not let that come between us yet. I hope that will continue, even now." Of course, quietly losing support for the Empress and actively installing a new Emperor were two completely different things, but her parents had to have seen that Lucien becoming the Emperor was a viable option, and that she had to act in the interests of the Inquisition. At the very least, she expected their conversations on Orlesian politics would become far more lively now.
"I agree with Leon on his other point, however. He remained neutral during the war, and did not actively create enemies," she added. Had Gaspard became the Emperor, or Celene remained, then the allies of the opposite party would have felt that they had lost so to speak, and their enemy now sat on the throne. It would have been difficult then for them to transition into peace. But Lucien's party had remained neutral during the Civil War, and had acted as a buffer of sorts between the factions. While the neutrality may have earned him some opposition regardless, he did not actively make enemies with his actions, so hopefully his transition would prove to be relatively peaceful.
"That being," she sighed, "Lucien has indeed inherited a tumultuous reign, as not only does he have to deal with the fallout of the Civil War, but also the threat that Corypheus poses remains. Fortunately, we are able to assist him with the latter."
Vesryn had no argument on that point, and took a long drink of his tea, licking his lips slightly when he was done. "So," he said, after a few brief moments of silence, "assuming you were able to keep an eye on all us during the dance, Lady Marceline, any thoughts on our form? Any standouts, anyone sorely in need of more practice?" He didn't look to be taking much serious stock in the answer, just curiosity with a hefty dose of amusement.
Marceline chuckled. "Oh, I would not be worried overmuch Ser Vesryn. If you had been atrocious I would have let you know. Gently, of course," she said with a wink and another quiet laugh.
And also one she grew tired of very quickly. She was happy when it was time she was able to leave her desk to host tea with the others, even if it was only a few steps away from her mantelpiece. A tea kettle hung above the fire as they presently waited for the water to come to a boil. On the end tables on either side of the couch she sat on, the tea cups rested, partnered with biscuits, cookies, and even little finger sandwiches. It was a quaint little tea party, but she found herself enjoying the relaxing quiet they brought.
"Thank you all for coming, again," she reiterated, "I am glad not to be reading any more letters, at least for a little while." She tossed a wary glance back to her desk, and the correspondence that waited, before issuing a light chuckle.
“Dear Lady Marceline." Cyrus spoke in an almost whimsical tone, enunciating so as to give himself a rather spot-on upper-class Orlesian accent. “We have heard that the Inquisition was singlehandedly responsible for putting an honest man on our throne. This is a deep affront to our history and culture, and we demand a do-over. Sincerely, His Grace Ser Lord Roderick Ponce von Fontlebottom the younger, duke of some little place out in the sticks, but with vineyards." He sniffed, reaching forward to procure himself a biscuit before leaning back into the armchair he occupied, one leg resting over the opposite knee at the shin.
Estella snorted, clearly trying to contain laughter. "You forgot to include a vaguely-worded threat, Cy," she said. "No proper Ser Lord Duke of some little place out in the sticks would ever forget one of those." She raised an eyebrow, breaking a finger-sandwich in half. "Something like... 'I would be most displeased to hear that this matter had not been resolved within a fortnight.'" Her accent was actually quite good as well, but then that much at least was probably to be expected, with all the time she'd spent in the country.
"No mention of the armies of Venatori and twelve lyrium dragons we all had to fight off during the canarie?" Leon added dryly. "For shame, Ser Lord Roderick. At least give us our due."
"Excellent choice of tea, Lady Marceline," Vesryn added, apparently seeing no need to add on to the efforts of the others, though he appeared thoroughly amused by it all.
"You all laugh," Marceline said, laughing in spite of herself, "But you do not know how eerily similar that sounds." A few of the letters she received were indeed penned from estates in some far flung corner of Orlais, though obviously the names and titles they had created for themselves made it sound far more respectful than they actually were. In fact, one particular estate she could even not find on the map, and Larissa had never heard of it before. She actually held on to that one, and planned to dig into it later, just to sate her curiosity.
She smiled and nodded her appreciation for Vesryn, before she turned back toward the others. "I would be offended, if it were not at least partially true," she said with another laugh. "I shall save the better ones, so that you all may see for yourselves." It was right about then that the tea kettle began to whistle, and she began to attend to it. Using the poker that leaned against the fireplace, she used it to hook the hand of the kettle and fish it from the flames, setting it gently down on a woven coaster on a nearby table. The whistling faded as it cooled, and she sat back down as they waited for it to be handled without risking burns.
"It was a tea I was fond of back home," she revealed to Vesryn. "It is naturally sweet, and does not contain caffeine, so it will not keep you up at night. It is also good for your skin, I hear," she added, rubbing the top of her wrists to convey the point.
“If you save them, we can have a dramatic reading. I've been told I missed my calling in the theater." Cyrus's tone of voice suggested self-effacement more than anything, though the suggestion seemed real enough. “Perhaps searching for the good ones will make getting through the pile of them a little easier."
Apparently deciding the tea was cool enough, he poured a round for everyone, spooning... quite a lot of sugar into his. Apparently naturally sweet was insufficient to his purposes. He did hum approvingly when he took the first sip, however, so perhaps it was well enough.
Estella added honey to hers, as she had the last time, though less than before, in consideration of the blend, perhaps. Leon sniffed slightly at it before adding a dash of milk, but otherwise left it as it had been before.
"Surely some of them are supportive, though?" The lady Inquisitor set her spoon down with a slightly-troubled frown. "I know people who won't play the Game have never been popular in Court, but surely there are some who can see the advantages?"
"Yes, of course. A good number give their support," Marceline answered, taking her tea straight. "Most are sincere, I believe. There are a few that I feel are just attempting to curry favor with us, but that is to be expected. There will always be some who seek out opportunities for their own gain," she stated. It was through their intervention that Lucien now sat on the Orlesian throne, of course there would be a those who would want to get into the installing party's good graces. She had expected no less. However, it was the genuine articles that resonated with her.
She blew the steam from her tea before taking a sip, and decided that she had gotten the steeping time down perfectly this time. Nodding, she continued. "I have also read a few that send their thanks for helping put an end to the civil war," she said, leaning back into the couch. "Many chevaliers will return home to their families now that the throne is no longer contested. Despite the politics, many are grateful to just get their loved ones back safely." She was among them. As a Marshal, her father would still have work to be done before he could return home, but at least she no longer had to worry about him fighting.
Marceline glanced at her desk again, this time without the trepidation. She wondered if a letter from her mother had gotten mixed with the rest of the correspondence, though she would have to find out later. "I trust Lucien will manage to win the court's approval in spite of them. He will play the Game enough to keep them content, but I doubt he will let it affect his politics," she said kindly. "He is an honorable man, and I truly believe he will do what is best for our country."
“Ah, but that's a bit of a changed tune, isn't it?" Cyrus's eyes were keen. Even sitting back with a cup of tea on his knee and a biscuit half-submerged in it, he managed to seem a bit like a housecat: lazy until provoked by something curious or interesting, and then surprisingly quick. “Your entire family were loyalists. Only a fool would believe Lucien was never an option until Halamshiral itself, which means you didn't quite come out of that with what you wanted, did you Lady Marceline?" He kept his tone on the rather light level of the conversation so far, but admittedly the query was rather pointed.
Marceline frowned, but she took the question in stride. She never tried to insert her own political opinions into Inquisition matters. She had always tried to act in the best interests of the Inquisition, in spite of her own beliefs. That being said, she never had reason to express her political ideas to the others, as it never came up in conversation. "We ended the civil war, and we now have the support of the Empire, I daresay I did get what I want Cyrus," she said taking a sip of her tea. "The rest of my family may not be as pleased with the outcome, but they cannot argue with the results."
She did wonder how her father would take it, however. He was a Marshall in Celene's army, and she wondered if he would take her failure as his. She shook her head and leaned back in the couch, casting another glance to Cyrus. "My support of the Empress--former Empress, I suppose I should say say now, was not as strong as it once was. By the time the you all collected me in Val Royeaux for the Inquisition, I barely considered myself a loyalist at all."
"Not that I'm against the outcome we got in the Winter Palace," Vesryn said, setting down his cup for the moment and pulling one leg up to rest across his other knee, "far from it, but the results for Orlais are certainly different than they are from our perspective. If that makes sense." He shrugged, perhaps doubting his ability to put political ideas in the correct terms. He rarely weighed in on these matters, after all.
"I don't doubt much of Orlais didn't want to give so much as a sovereign of support to us. Their war ended, but neither of the sides who fought and died now see their leader on the throne. The man sitting on it now has experience in leading a mercenary company, not an empire, and he has as great a task before him as perhaps any Emperor of Orlais that came before." His eyes wandered over to Estella for a moment before they came back to Marceline.
"I was all for removing Celene from power, but I expect the rest of Orlais can and will argue with the results. I hope it won't leave relations with your family... strained, or anything. Simply for doing your job and acting in the interest of the Inquisition."
"Then again," Leon added, shrugging his large shoulders. "The opposite is true as well. No one sees an enemy they've come to hate sitting there, either. Perhaps that will turn out to be a bigger favor for unification than anything. And reconciliation—even in the more personal cases." It seemed to be meant as a sort of encouragement, though he was hardly the most graceful at giving such things.
Marceline smiled gratefully at both Leon and Vesryn, "Thank you both for your concern. While our politics have... diverged in the recent years, we have not let that come between us yet. I hope that will continue, even now." Of course, quietly losing support for the Empress and actively installing a new Emperor were two completely different things, but her parents had to have seen that Lucien becoming the Emperor was a viable option, and that she had to act in the interests of the Inquisition. At the very least, she expected their conversations on Orlesian politics would become far more lively now.
"I agree with Leon on his other point, however. He remained neutral during the war, and did not actively create enemies," she added. Had Gaspard became the Emperor, or Celene remained, then the allies of the opposite party would have felt that they had lost so to speak, and their enemy now sat on the throne. It would have been difficult then for them to transition into peace. But Lucien's party had remained neutral during the Civil War, and had acted as a buffer of sorts between the factions. While the neutrality may have earned him some opposition regardless, he did not actively make enemies with his actions, so hopefully his transition would prove to be relatively peaceful.
"That being," she sighed, "Lucien has indeed inherited a tumultuous reign, as not only does he have to deal with the fallout of the Civil War, but also the threat that Corypheus poses remains. Fortunately, we are able to assist him with the latter."
Vesryn had no argument on that point, and took a long drink of his tea, licking his lips slightly when he was done. "So," he said, after a few brief moments of silence, "assuming you were able to keep an eye on all us during the dance, Lady Marceline, any thoughts on our form? Any standouts, anyone sorely in need of more practice?" He didn't look to be taking much serious stock in the answer, just curiosity with a hefty dose of amusement.
Marceline chuckled. "Oh, I would not be worried overmuch Ser Vesryn. If you had been atrocious I would have let you know. Gently, of course," she said with a wink and another quiet laugh.