The Exalted Council, it was called.
The atmosphere in Halamshiral was less festive than when they'd arrived to stop the assassination attempts at the start of 9:43, but Orlesians treated most things with similar flair, and the Winter Palace was immaculately prepared to receive the guests arriving from all over Thedas. Naturally the Emperor and Empress made the biggest splash and drew the most attention, and the arrival of the Fereldan delegation drew up the most ire, but the Inquisition's arrival had no small amount of fanfare of its own. They were quite popular among the people right now, considering their recent victory over Corypheus, the fulfilling of what had become their purpose.
Rom had heard that even Tevinter sent a group to attend, something of a surprise arrival, and a promising sign of cooperation. The Inquisition did have dealings in their territory after all, and no doubt the Imperium wanted to ensure their interests were not threatened here by whatever the southern nations agreed to.
The main street leading up to the Winter Palace was kept open for their mounted procession by Orlesian soldiers in blindingly polished armor and masks, holding spears aloft bearing banners and flags of the Empire's blue. Rom couldn't recognize any of the Orlesians watching them ride through, given their love of masks, but it made identifying the Fereldans and other outsiders among them painfully easy. He resisted the urge to ride faster. He still felt like a fool in the attire he'd settled on, despite it not being quite as fancy as what he'd adorned his last time at the Winter Palace. Brand had insisted he looked dashing, but he hadn't been able to tell if the elf was being facetious or not.
Halamshiral was in large part an elven city, and there were many of these represented in the crowd as well. Some of them seemed to have come for the express purpose of catching a glimpse of Khari, who, in quite the reversal from the last time she rode this route, was now among the most recognizable and infamous members of the Inquisition. She seemed to have none of his reservations, not about the crowds and not about the somewhat more formal style of dress. Probably because it wasn't actually a dress this time.
She paused in the middle of basking in her newfound attention to catch his eye and grin, then leaned over to tug the edge of his embroidered collar into place. âYou look good, Rom. Soak it in while you get the chance. I don't think too many people on the other side of the High Quarter gates are gonna be this excited to see us."
Though even as she said it, the gates drew near, and standing off to one side of them, apparently arguing with the guards, were two very familiar faces.
One of the faces belonged to Zahraâit was easy enough recognizing her even though itâd been a few months. She wore a heavy buccaneerâs coat in regal-red, though she kept it draped over her shoulder. Leathers in dark tones, and a billowy shirt with sleeves cuffed at her elbows completed her ensemble. Khariâs gifted ironbark bow was strapped to her back and her rapier swung at her hip with every irritated inflection. She was mere inches away from the guard, mouth pulled into a scowl. Although hilariously shorter than the person she was speaking to, she didnât seem to have any problem invading his space, thick eyebrows drawn down.
âWeâre Rom and Stelâs friends, dammit. Whatâs the bloody problem?â she poked a finger into his chest and only seemed to retreat when another familiar figure took a step forward. The guard seemed taken aback, but remained vigilant in front of the gate. If anything he didnât seem as if he knew what to say. Though, he was determined not to let them through. The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease a little, but she did not completely relent. âWeâre not leaving until you let us through.â
The other face was, of course, Asala's. It was easy to pick her out, as she towered over both Zahra and the guard. She noticably stood straight, without the timid hunch that usually accompanied her publicly. Also noteworthy, perhaps even more so, she wore the garb of a privateer, much in the style of Zahra. A white wide necked shirt with poofy long sleeves rolled up to the elbow and leather trousers. An assemblage of tasteful jewelry rested around her neck, while her broken horn sported a copper cap shaped in such a way that it extended the horn to its original length.
She watched Zahra speak to the guard from a step back, arms crossed and a frown on her lips. Obviously she wasn't any more happy to be denied entrance as Zahra, though she probably wasn't as comfortable arguing the point. Asala was more than happy to let Zee do it though. Asala was the first to notice th Inquisition's party, immediately lighting up and waving toward them with a wide smile.
With a slight grimace, Estella, already riding near the front of the group, maneuvered her horse around a few others and approached the guard. "Your pardon, ser," she said, the title probably a bit more lofty than the guardsman had actually earned. Probably didn't hurt her chances. "I apologize for the misunderstanding; these two are indeed friends of ours. They'll join up with our party; we'll of course assume all responsibility for their presence." She offered a mild smile.
It took the man a few seconds, but by now their faces were fairly widely-known. The Inquisition was of enough interest that portraits had circulated over time, no doubt smoothing interactions like this one, especially since neither Romulus nor Estella gave off quite the air of automatic authority that most nobles did. When recognition did click into place, he gave one last skeptical glance at the two obvious privateers, but then dipped his head. "As you say, Lady Inquisitor."
And just like that, the way was open. Stel paused just long enough to pull both Zahra and Asala in for quick hugs before remounting and sliding back into the file.
Zahra puffed one final, âFinally,â before stepping around him and to Estellaâs side. Her hug was always a rougher affair, bringing her slightly off the ground, before she settled back. She tossed the guard one last cheeky smile, before joining the rear, just behind the horses rump. She held out her elbow for Asala and tipped her chin up, grin wide of which Asala accepted with her own smile. If anyone fit in less than a Qunari in these parts, it was certainly her. âStill a fancy place, sers and ladiesâhow do you do it all day?" She paused, and scratched at the back of her neck. "Thanks for saving us. Would've been stuck there all day.â
"Glad we could help," Rom answered, though of course Estella had done all the work, sparing anyone else the need to do it more bluntly and less efficiently. "I didn't think we'd see you again so soon. Figured you'd be off sailing along Rivaini coastlines."
Zahra lifted her shoulders in a shrug and pulled Asala closer still. "Maybe we just missed you more than you thought." A toothy grin wasn't far behind. Perhaps, it wasn't too far from the truth. They had spent quite a bit of time together, saving the world and opening wounds, ebbing and flowing like the sea. She laughed softly and pushed errant curls behind her ears. "Maybe that's truer than I'd like to admit."
"This seemed too important to miss," Asala added. "And we did miss you," she continued with a smile. Asala wasn't afraid to show it.
"Well we're glad you're here, at any rate. I hope you won't get too bored, though, we've got nothing but meetings ahead of us." Important meetings, sure, but still... not Zahra's usual idea of a good time. She most definitely wouldn't be taking part, either. Too likely to cause a scene.
"We will be fine," Asala insisted, drawing Zee a little closer. At least there was someone to keep an eye on her.
It wasn't long before they had entered the palace grounds and dismounted, finally free of the need to have crowds kept back by rows of armed guards. Inside it was as Khari predicted: the excitement of the eyes on them was replaced by a variety of things, and few of them felt pleasant. Animosity from some, perhaps with a bit of jealousy mixed in. Others had more of a hunger, Orlesian nobles that wanted to use the Inquisition for their own ends, no doubt wanting to play on the connections the organization already had in the Empire. Of course, most of them could hide their intentions well enough behind their masks, something that irked Romulus to no end about this country.
There was one group that wasn't wearing masks, all save for the woman leading them, and Rom quickly identified them as a Tevinter escort, high-ranking guardsmen escorting... of course. The narrow silver mask gave him a second's pause, but he did soon recognize the woman striding towards them as his former domina, Chryseis Viridius. She'd put a great deal of effort into her appearance for the occasion, strings of small jewels woven into her blonde hair. Her attire was still more mages robes than Orlesian-style dress, easy to move in if she had need to, but the tailoring was impeccable, even if the color was a near-black grey that did nothing to help her stand out.
"Imagine my surprise when the Archon named me the Tevinter Ambassador to the Inquisition. I'm not sure the Magisterium fully understood the irony of the situation, though the old man certainly did." When last Rom had seen her Chryseis had been devoid of must of her sharpness, her energy, but she seemed to have regained it now. She looked... healthier, perhaps was an appropriate way to describe it. "In any case, it's good to see you all alive and well. You have my thanks for dealing with the deranged monsters at the head of the Venatori. Corypheus should've accepted death when it came for him the first time, and as for Marcus, well... I'd rather not hear his name ever again."
"A thought we share," Estella agreed, though only with a slight pull of her mouth to the side. It was sort of hard not to discuss him at least by proxy, not when his apprentice was still the third-most glaring name on their list of missing persons that really ought to be found. And perhaps the most dangerous to leave to her own devices. "It's nice to see you looking well, Lady ChryseisâI admit we weren't expecting Tevinter to send anyone at all." So polite were the words, and so suffused with Estella's usual mild warmth, that it was honestly impossible to tell if she meant them truly or not. Perhaps she did, to a point.
"Though... I suppose we did make a few waves in Minrathous, so perhaps it's not wholly unexpected."
Khari snorted. âWe killed a Magister, broke into another one's house, and destroyed a bunch of stuff." She ticked the items off on her fingers, probably referring to Contee rather than Alesius when it came to the killing. âPersonally I'm wondering if they sent you with an invoice."
Chryseis hmmed thoughtfully. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. All I recall is taking action against the Venatori, who are far less welcome in Minrathous now that their leaders met their ends." It was true that she'd taken no involvement in the Contee business, and if her home and power had been restored to her, it had to be true that the Venatori were falling out of favor in Tevinter. "Where is Cyrus?" she asked, sharp green eyes searching for him behind her mask. "I can't imagine he would miss this."
It wasn't the first time Estella had needed to answer the question, and she was getting better at it, in terms of showing less distress each time it was asked. It was doubtful she felt any less, thoughâon the contrary, her concern only seemed to grow as more time passed without contact of any kind. "He left," she replied, perhaps a touch too quietly. "For parts unknown, after we killed Corypheus. It's been a while since we heard from him."
Chryseis frowned openly at that, but Rom could tell that she'd picked up on the sensitivity of the topic, and despite narrowing her eyes slightly at them, she chose not to press the issue. "That's unfortunate, I'd hoped to speak with him. Interesting developments in Minrathous I thought he might take an interest in. No matter." She glanced over her shoulder to the Winter Palace itself, where a large formation of guards flanked either side of the main entrance. "I shouldn't keep you any longer; you have an Emperor and Empress to meet, after all. Best of luck with the Council. I imagine I'm mostly here to listen and report back on the proceedings. If you want something done right, yes?" Her eyes landed on Rom when she said it, restraining mirth.
It might've made him wilt to hear such a thing from her once, obviously referring to his bungling of his duties at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Instead he was able to take it as the humor that it was, and forced a small smile back. "Lady Chryseis," he acknowledged, nodding. He didn't feel any more was necessary. Talking to her was never going to get much easier.
The Inquisition's party bypassed the guards without being stopped, a large-enough number of famous faces among them to mark them out without the need for formal identification. They'd all been here personally before, after allâand there was little mistaking how close some of their number were to the palace's current residents.
"Ah, there you are. Please, come save me from politics for five minutes." Strange as it was to think, the rather jovial remark could only have come from the Emperor himself, with that particular accent and pitch. Less strange was the fact that rather than occupying the throne room, he and the Empress were mingling freely among the guests in the entrance hall, flanked only by one slightly exasperated-looking chevalier. Ser VioletteâVi, as Khari preferred.
Lucien wore a broad smile, one that only grew as the group approached. Estella didn't even hesitate before stepping into his personal space for a hug instead of bowing, though even that was a touch more dignified than the running tackle from their first time in Halamshiral. "Lucien!" She drew back, tilting her head up and grinning. "It's still strange to see a crown on your head, I have to admit."
"Still strange to wear one," he replied, stepping back a bit while Estella shifted her affection momentarily to Sophia instead.
Where a greeting of some sort to the Empress would have been, though, Estella found herself abruptly silent, realization dawning quickly over her face. The reason, quite obviously, was the telling shape of her gown. "You'reâ" The Lady Inquisitor fumbled with her words for a moment, a soft noise of possibly delight escaping her. "You could have said so in your last letters, you knowâeither of you! Congratulations!" She hovered a bit uncertainly in front of Sophia, as though with the intent to embrace her too but an uncertainty as to whether she ought.
The Empress removed all doubt when she went to hug Estella herself, embracing her warmly. "I thought you could use a pleasant surprise. And thank you." Breaking the hug, she still held Estella's shoulders for a moment. "It's... a lot of things. Mostly just exciting." Rom thought he also detected some relief there. As he understood it this was something the Empress had been pressured towards for quite some time, and finally she could actually do it in the way that she'd always hoped for.
"Congratulations, Your Radiance," he echoed, with a small bow. She looked for a brief moment as though she wanted to correct him on his formality, but no doubt both of them were tired of that by now. And Rom didn't know either of them the way Estella did.
"Thank you. And congratulations are in order for all of you as well. I wish the circumstances were less stressful, but... we'll do our best to ensure you can keep doing the work you've been doing. It's still very much needed."
"We think so, too," Estella replied, "but we understand that it might not be something we can do in the same way. Your support means a great deal to us."
The Emperor offered the group a smile at that. "With a group like this, the how doesn't really matter so much. You'll figure things out and chart yourselves a worthy course forward, of that much I'm quite confident." Something drew his attention towards the inner part of the castle, smile fading and a sigh passing through his nose.
"I fear, however, that our break from politics is coming to an end. The Fereldan delegation will want to begin talks as soon as possible. They're a bit further from home than we are. And a bit more, how should I put this...?" He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "You'd think someone spat in the Arl's ale, to see him glower." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we'll give you a few moments to collect yourselves before things get underway."
"Do brace yourselves," Sophia warned. "Fereldans can be worse even than Marchers. But unlike their favored pets, they often lack the bite to match their bark."
"We'll do our best not to let either get to us." Rom bowed briefly again. "Thank you for the warm welcome."
The atmosphere in Halamshiral was less festive than when they'd arrived to stop the assassination attempts at the start of 9:43, but Orlesians treated most things with similar flair, and the Winter Palace was immaculately prepared to receive the guests arriving from all over Thedas. Naturally the Emperor and Empress made the biggest splash and drew the most attention, and the arrival of the Fereldan delegation drew up the most ire, but the Inquisition's arrival had no small amount of fanfare of its own. They were quite popular among the people right now, considering their recent victory over Corypheus, the fulfilling of what had become their purpose.
Rom had heard that even Tevinter sent a group to attend, something of a surprise arrival, and a promising sign of cooperation. The Inquisition did have dealings in their territory after all, and no doubt the Imperium wanted to ensure their interests were not threatened here by whatever the southern nations agreed to.
The main street leading up to the Winter Palace was kept open for their mounted procession by Orlesian soldiers in blindingly polished armor and masks, holding spears aloft bearing banners and flags of the Empire's blue. Rom couldn't recognize any of the Orlesians watching them ride through, given their love of masks, but it made identifying the Fereldans and other outsiders among them painfully easy. He resisted the urge to ride faster. He still felt like a fool in the attire he'd settled on, despite it not being quite as fancy as what he'd adorned his last time at the Winter Palace. Brand had insisted he looked dashing, but he hadn't been able to tell if the elf was being facetious or not.
Halamshiral was in large part an elven city, and there were many of these represented in the crowd as well. Some of them seemed to have come for the express purpose of catching a glimpse of Khari, who, in quite the reversal from the last time she rode this route, was now among the most recognizable and infamous members of the Inquisition. She seemed to have none of his reservations, not about the crowds and not about the somewhat more formal style of dress. Probably because it wasn't actually a dress this time.
She paused in the middle of basking in her newfound attention to catch his eye and grin, then leaned over to tug the edge of his embroidered collar into place. âYou look good, Rom. Soak it in while you get the chance. I don't think too many people on the other side of the High Quarter gates are gonna be this excited to see us."
Though even as she said it, the gates drew near, and standing off to one side of them, apparently arguing with the guards, were two very familiar faces.
One of the faces belonged to Zahraâit was easy enough recognizing her even though itâd been a few months. She wore a heavy buccaneerâs coat in regal-red, though she kept it draped over her shoulder. Leathers in dark tones, and a billowy shirt with sleeves cuffed at her elbows completed her ensemble. Khariâs gifted ironbark bow was strapped to her back and her rapier swung at her hip with every irritated inflection. She was mere inches away from the guard, mouth pulled into a scowl. Although hilariously shorter than the person she was speaking to, she didnât seem to have any problem invading his space, thick eyebrows drawn down.
âWeâre Rom and Stelâs friends, dammit. Whatâs the bloody problem?â she poked a finger into his chest and only seemed to retreat when another familiar figure took a step forward. The guard seemed taken aback, but remained vigilant in front of the gate. If anything he didnât seem as if he knew what to say. Though, he was determined not to let them through. The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease a little, but she did not completely relent. âWeâre not leaving until you let us through.â
The other face was, of course, Asala's. It was easy to pick her out, as she towered over both Zahra and the guard. She noticably stood straight, without the timid hunch that usually accompanied her publicly. Also noteworthy, perhaps even more so, she wore the garb of a privateer, much in the style of Zahra. A white wide necked shirt with poofy long sleeves rolled up to the elbow and leather trousers. An assemblage of tasteful jewelry rested around her neck, while her broken horn sported a copper cap shaped in such a way that it extended the horn to its original length.
She watched Zahra speak to the guard from a step back, arms crossed and a frown on her lips. Obviously she wasn't any more happy to be denied entrance as Zahra, though she probably wasn't as comfortable arguing the point. Asala was more than happy to let Zee do it though. Asala was the first to notice th Inquisition's party, immediately lighting up and waving toward them with a wide smile.
With a slight grimace, Estella, already riding near the front of the group, maneuvered her horse around a few others and approached the guard. "Your pardon, ser," she said, the title probably a bit more lofty than the guardsman had actually earned. Probably didn't hurt her chances. "I apologize for the misunderstanding; these two are indeed friends of ours. They'll join up with our party; we'll of course assume all responsibility for their presence." She offered a mild smile.
It took the man a few seconds, but by now their faces were fairly widely-known. The Inquisition was of enough interest that portraits had circulated over time, no doubt smoothing interactions like this one, especially since neither Romulus nor Estella gave off quite the air of automatic authority that most nobles did. When recognition did click into place, he gave one last skeptical glance at the two obvious privateers, but then dipped his head. "As you say, Lady Inquisitor."
And just like that, the way was open. Stel paused just long enough to pull both Zahra and Asala in for quick hugs before remounting and sliding back into the file.
Zahra puffed one final, âFinally,â before stepping around him and to Estellaâs side. Her hug was always a rougher affair, bringing her slightly off the ground, before she settled back. She tossed the guard one last cheeky smile, before joining the rear, just behind the horses rump. She held out her elbow for Asala and tipped her chin up, grin wide of which Asala accepted with her own smile. If anyone fit in less than a Qunari in these parts, it was certainly her. âStill a fancy place, sers and ladiesâhow do you do it all day?" She paused, and scratched at the back of her neck. "Thanks for saving us. Would've been stuck there all day.â
"Glad we could help," Rom answered, though of course Estella had done all the work, sparing anyone else the need to do it more bluntly and less efficiently. "I didn't think we'd see you again so soon. Figured you'd be off sailing along Rivaini coastlines."
Zahra lifted her shoulders in a shrug and pulled Asala closer still. "Maybe we just missed you more than you thought." A toothy grin wasn't far behind. Perhaps, it wasn't too far from the truth. They had spent quite a bit of time together, saving the world and opening wounds, ebbing and flowing like the sea. She laughed softly and pushed errant curls behind her ears. "Maybe that's truer than I'd like to admit."
"This seemed too important to miss," Asala added. "And we did miss you," she continued with a smile. Asala wasn't afraid to show it.
"Well we're glad you're here, at any rate. I hope you won't get too bored, though, we've got nothing but meetings ahead of us." Important meetings, sure, but still... not Zahra's usual idea of a good time. She most definitely wouldn't be taking part, either. Too likely to cause a scene.
"We will be fine," Asala insisted, drawing Zee a little closer. At least there was someone to keep an eye on her.
It wasn't long before they had entered the palace grounds and dismounted, finally free of the need to have crowds kept back by rows of armed guards. Inside it was as Khari predicted: the excitement of the eyes on them was replaced by a variety of things, and few of them felt pleasant. Animosity from some, perhaps with a bit of jealousy mixed in. Others had more of a hunger, Orlesian nobles that wanted to use the Inquisition for their own ends, no doubt wanting to play on the connections the organization already had in the Empire. Of course, most of them could hide their intentions well enough behind their masks, something that irked Romulus to no end about this country.
There was one group that wasn't wearing masks, all save for the woman leading them, and Rom quickly identified them as a Tevinter escort, high-ranking guardsmen escorting... of course. The narrow silver mask gave him a second's pause, but he did soon recognize the woman striding towards them as his former domina, Chryseis Viridius. She'd put a great deal of effort into her appearance for the occasion, strings of small jewels woven into her blonde hair. Her attire was still more mages robes than Orlesian-style dress, easy to move in if she had need to, but the tailoring was impeccable, even if the color was a near-black grey that did nothing to help her stand out.
"Imagine my surprise when the Archon named me the Tevinter Ambassador to the Inquisition. I'm not sure the Magisterium fully understood the irony of the situation, though the old man certainly did." When last Rom had seen her Chryseis had been devoid of must of her sharpness, her energy, but she seemed to have regained it now. She looked... healthier, perhaps was an appropriate way to describe it. "In any case, it's good to see you all alive and well. You have my thanks for dealing with the deranged monsters at the head of the Venatori. Corypheus should've accepted death when it came for him the first time, and as for Marcus, well... I'd rather not hear his name ever again."
"A thought we share," Estella agreed, though only with a slight pull of her mouth to the side. It was sort of hard not to discuss him at least by proxy, not when his apprentice was still the third-most glaring name on their list of missing persons that really ought to be found. And perhaps the most dangerous to leave to her own devices. "It's nice to see you looking well, Lady ChryseisâI admit we weren't expecting Tevinter to send anyone at all." So polite were the words, and so suffused with Estella's usual mild warmth, that it was honestly impossible to tell if she meant them truly or not. Perhaps she did, to a point.
"Though... I suppose we did make a few waves in Minrathous, so perhaps it's not wholly unexpected."
Khari snorted. âWe killed a Magister, broke into another one's house, and destroyed a bunch of stuff." She ticked the items off on her fingers, probably referring to Contee rather than Alesius when it came to the killing. âPersonally I'm wondering if they sent you with an invoice."
Chryseis hmmed thoughtfully. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. All I recall is taking action against the Venatori, who are far less welcome in Minrathous now that their leaders met their ends." It was true that she'd taken no involvement in the Contee business, and if her home and power had been restored to her, it had to be true that the Venatori were falling out of favor in Tevinter. "Where is Cyrus?" she asked, sharp green eyes searching for him behind her mask. "I can't imagine he would miss this."
It wasn't the first time Estella had needed to answer the question, and she was getting better at it, in terms of showing less distress each time it was asked. It was doubtful she felt any less, thoughâon the contrary, her concern only seemed to grow as more time passed without contact of any kind. "He left," she replied, perhaps a touch too quietly. "For parts unknown, after we killed Corypheus. It's been a while since we heard from him."
Chryseis frowned openly at that, but Rom could tell that she'd picked up on the sensitivity of the topic, and despite narrowing her eyes slightly at them, she chose not to press the issue. "That's unfortunate, I'd hoped to speak with him. Interesting developments in Minrathous I thought he might take an interest in. No matter." She glanced over her shoulder to the Winter Palace itself, where a large formation of guards flanked either side of the main entrance. "I shouldn't keep you any longer; you have an Emperor and Empress to meet, after all. Best of luck with the Council. I imagine I'm mostly here to listen and report back on the proceedings. If you want something done right, yes?" Her eyes landed on Rom when she said it, restraining mirth.
It might've made him wilt to hear such a thing from her once, obviously referring to his bungling of his duties at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Instead he was able to take it as the humor that it was, and forced a small smile back. "Lady Chryseis," he acknowledged, nodding. He didn't feel any more was necessary. Talking to her was never going to get much easier.
The Inquisition's party bypassed the guards without being stopped, a large-enough number of famous faces among them to mark them out without the need for formal identification. They'd all been here personally before, after allâand there was little mistaking how close some of their number were to the palace's current residents.
"Ah, there you are. Please, come save me from politics for five minutes." Strange as it was to think, the rather jovial remark could only have come from the Emperor himself, with that particular accent and pitch. Less strange was the fact that rather than occupying the throne room, he and the Empress were mingling freely among the guests in the entrance hall, flanked only by one slightly exasperated-looking chevalier. Ser VioletteâVi, as Khari preferred.
Lucien wore a broad smile, one that only grew as the group approached. Estella didn't even hesitate before stepping into his personal space for a hug instead of bowing, though even that was a touch more dignified than the running tackle from their first time in Halamshiral. "Lucien!" She drew back, tilting her head up and grinning. "It's still strange to see a crown on your head, I have to admit."
"Still strange to wear one," he replied, stepping back a bit while Estella shifted her affection momentarily to Sophia instead.
Where a greeting of some sort to the Empress would have been, though, Estella found herself abruptly silent, realization dawning quickly over her face. The reason, quite obviously, was the telling shape of her gown. "You'reâ" The Lady Inquisitor fumbled with her words for a moment, a soft noise of possibly delight escaping her. "You could have said so in your last letters, you knowâeither of you! Congratulations!" She hovered a bit uncertainly in front of Sophia, as though with the intent to embrace her too but an uncertainty as to whether she ought.
The Empress removed all doubt when she went to hug Estella herself, embracing her warmly. "I thought you could use a pleasant surprise. And thank you." Breaking the hug, she still held Estella's shoulders for a moment. "It's... a lot of things. Mostly just exciting." Rom thought he also detected some relief there. As he understood it this was something the Empress had been pressured towards for quite some time, and finally she could actually do it in the way that she'd always hoped for.
"Congratulations, Your Radiance," he echoed, with a small bow. She looked for a brief moment as though she wanted to correct him on his formality, but no doubt both of them were tired of that by now. And Rom didn't know either of them the way Estella did.
"Thank you. And congratulations are in order for all of you as well. I wish the circumstances were less stressful, but... we'll do our best to ensure you can keep doing the work you've been doing. It's still very much needed."
"We think so, too," Estella replied, "but we understand that it might not be something we can do in the same way. Your support means a great deal to us."
The Emperor offered the group a smile at that. "With a group like this, the how doesn't really matter so much. You'll figure things out and chart yourselves a worthy course forward, of that much I'm quite confident." Something drew his attention towards the inner part of the castle, smile fading and a sigh passing through his nose.
"I fear, however, that our break from politics is coming to an end. The Fereldan delegation will want to begin talks as soon as possible. They're a bit further from home than we are. And a bit more, how should I put this...?" He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "You'd think someone spat in the Arl's ale, to see him glower." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we'll give you a few moments to collect yourselves before things get underway."
"Do brace yourselves," Sophia warned. "Fereldans can be worse even than Marchers. But unlike their favored pets, they often lack the bite to match their bark."
"We'll do our best not to let either get to us." Rom bowed briefly again. "Thank you for the warm welcome."