Evie paced the length of her bedchamber, trying to get her breathing under control. It felt as if the walls were closing in, trapping her in a future she didn't want.
"He looked at me with such pride, Tai," she breathed out, a hand against her stomach as if that would settle the tension roiling inside it. "He thought I was growing up, making the mature choice." She looked at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. "All these years, despite everything—the whispers at court, the queen's machinations—he's tried so hard to be a good father to me. The riding lessons when I was small. The... library of instruments when I expressed an interest in music. When he'd sneak away from council meetings to watch me practice archery. The way he would sit still for hours while I painted or drew him, even in the most ridiculous poses."
Tai nodded, understanding. Unlike most at court, he'd seen these moments, King Alistair watching her with quiet pride as she performed or practiced. He loved all three of his children, even if he was only supposed to love the one.
"Queen Anora knows exactly what she's doing," Evie said. "She knew if she told him I agreed, I'd be trapped. To go back and refuse... How can I disappoint him after all he's done for me and all the trouble I've caused for him? And he'd do it if I asked; he'd take that blow to his reputation. Again."
She continued pacing, running a hand through her long dark blonde hair. His hair.
"You know what he said to me once? After that ambassador from Orlais made that horrible remark about bastards?" After that disastrous dinner she had cried; it had been the final straw on a terrible day. Hirik and Tai had found her and tried to comfort her until her father arrived to take over. It had taken a couple of hours to find her; she'd been hiding in a tree. "He told me the circumstances of my birth don't define me. And he said, 'Never forget that you carry my blood, my spirit, and my heart.'"
He had even given her a pendant with the words engraved on the back - My blood. My spirit. My heart. She rarely took it off. The front depicted the Theirin crest. Kieran had been given a similar amulet, though his had a different engraving on the back. It was a reminder that even if they didn't carry their father's name, they were still his beloved children.
Tai watched her, concern etched on his features. He had never seen her this upset before. She usually forced composure no matter the circumstances until she was alone. Even when that ambassador had basically told her she was a waste of air and should have been drowned at birth. She had only been ten years old.
"Alistair loves you, Eves; that's why this hurts so much."
He had seen Evie struggle to maintain an indifferent facade as she heard over and over how much better off her family would be if she didn't exist. Seen her torn between wanting to please and make her father proud and wanting to hide away in a hole and never come out.
Tai didn't know his parents very well, but they turned up to visit him far more often than Mareven did Evie, but there were no impossible expectations on him. It hurt that they couldn't have stayed with him and been a family, but at least his life here had been a good one. Better than Evie's.
"And I love him," she said. "But this marriage, it would be a slow death."
"Did you know you're only a year older than his daughter?" Tai asked.
Evie shuddered. "But if I don't marry him, then I am exactly what everyone has always said about me—the troublesome bastard, the burden, the stain. The..."
The bed-born blight.
"You're none of those things," he told her firmly.
It was a losing battle. The words had wormed their way under her skin. How could they not when she'd been hearing them from infancy? Distance from this place would do her good.
"We should leave," he told her.
Her step paused, her big green eyes fixed on him. "What?"
"Tonight. Together. I've heard Kieran try to convince you to do the same. Let's do it. We'll sneak to Hirik's house and see if he wants to join us. We pack what we can carry and disappear before dawn."
Evie stared at him, for once truly giving it careful thought. "Father would—"
"Be heartbroken," Tai finished for her. "But you'd be free."
He rose from the edge of her bed, coming towards her and resting his hands on her shoulders.
"There is no painless way forward," he told her. "And I cannot watch you wither away in a cruel marriage. You need to make a life that doesn't hurt."
"Where would we go?" She asked softly.
"To Hirik's house first. Then Orlais, to find Kieran. You've been there; you think we could find him?"
She nodded. "He lives in Val Royeaux. He boards at the university."
His mother had been something of an advisor to Empress Celene and had been appointed liaison to the Inquisition after the civil war there. Kieran had spent months living in Skyhold while the Inquisition occupied it. Morrigan had returned to Orlais after that, until Kieran had been old enough to start attending the university. Despite not being nobility, he had been allowed entrance by request of the Empress. A gift to Morrigan for her years of service.
Kieran hated living in that place. He would take little to no convincing to join them.
"He would look for me."
Tai nodded. "But he won't find you. Eventually, he would hope for your happiness above your return."
Would he? He would absolutely wish her happiness, but he would wish that happiness were here, with him.
"To leave without saying goodbye, it would gut him."
"Write him a letter. Obviously not explaining where we've gone, but that you're safe. That you love him. And you can always keep writing once we get where we're going, so he knows you're alive and safe."
"What about your parents?"
"I'll write them one too; I'll leave it in my room. I'm sure Uncle Alistair will pass it on."
Evie nodded. "You're sure about this?"
"Completely doubtless," he said with certainty. "It will be an adventure," he offered, his voice softer.
The thought of escape was both terrifying and liberating. All that held her back was her father and her little brother. But the walls had closed in too far. There was nowhere to go but out.
"Tonight then," she confirmed.
-
She packed a small bag, some clothes, some jewellery, some coin, the pendant her father had gifted her, and little wooden figurines he'd had made of herself, Ben, Alistair, Mareven, and Kieran. Happy family. She would leave her own figurine behind; she didn't need it. Maybe he'd want it. She would also take her lute and her bow—both gifts from her father as well. But her reasons for taking them were sentimental as well as practical.
She had written her letter. She didn't see much point in writing her mother; she wasn't connected to her like she was to her father and brother.
She kept the pack and letter hidden while she spent what time she had left with Ben. He had his lessons, but once he was done, the pair of them went to the kennels to play with the mabari pups. And they stole a whole tray of sweet rolls from the kitchens and ate them by the fountain while she listened to him talk about anything and everything.
She watched him fondly; he was the spitting image of their father. There wasn't much of Queen Anora in him, in both physicality and personality. A blessing.
Her heart ached at the thought of leaving him, so she tried to give him the best time she could. Good memories to leave him with.
Before retiring for bed that night, she went to her father's study. They hadn't seen much of each other since the marketplace incident. And she didn't want to leave without at least some kind of goodbye.
It was quiet save for the cracking of the fire. He sat at his desk, writing something onto parchment, the weight of the kingdom etched in the lines of his face.
He looked up when Evie entered, a tired smile forming.
"Evie, twice in one day. Aren't I lucky?"
"I just... wanted to say goodnight."
He gestured to the chair across from him. "Come in. I could use a distraction from border disputes and nonsense."
She crossed the room, memorising the familiar scent of metal and woodsmoke, the chaos of his workspace. His crown sat aside on a nearby table.
"You look troubled, sweetheart," he noted. "Second thoughts about the arrangement?"
It took everything in her not to scream yes.
"No, just... missed you?"
He set aside his quill, his brow furrowing. "I know what you mean. I—I know I was harsh—"
"No, you weren't," she told him. "We..." She sighed. "We fucked up."
Faint amusement coloured his expression at her profanity.
"And everything you said was right."
"I stand by what I said, not necessarily how I said it." He rested his elbow on the desk, chin in hand as he observed her. "You're more like me than anyone cares to realise. I got up to more than my fair share of trouble as well. Still do, despite how busy ruling keeps me. And I think that is what terrifies me about you."
She had heard some of the stories. "Did any of your shenanigans turn out like ours?"
"Most of the harm was to myself," he conceded with a chuckle. "But if I had a group of like-minded individuals as you do, the damage would be unfathomable."
"You sort of did though, and you ended up saving the world," she pointed out.
"Maker's breath, Evie, are you telling me I'm akin to Shale? Sten? Ugh, Morrigan!?"
Evie laughed. "That's the mother of your firstborn!"
"And that's the only endearing thing about her," he laughed. "No, Morrigan was a vicious harpy, but she was an incredibly skilled mage and quite shrewd. We would not be where we are today if not for her." Silence fell over him for a moment, his face contemplative. "Although we stopped the archdemon, we left a wake of destruction in our path as well. There isn't always a right choice, unfortunately. Sometimes all you can do is try to minimise the damage and live with the consequences."
"If I... made a choice that you disagreed with, something that seemed selfish or wrong... would you try to understand why?"
Concern flickered across his features. "Has something happened?"
She shook her head. "No," she assured him quickly.
He studied her face, and for a terrifying moment she thought he might see right through her. Maybe a part of her hoped he would.
"Whatever choices you make, Evie, my love for you is undying," he told her solemnly.
His words were nearly her undoing, and she swallowed hard against the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. How could she leave him? How could she disappoint him? But she couldn't condemn herself either. Maybe she really was more selfish than she thought, because despite the horrible guilt and the wavering of her resolve, it still didn't shatter.
"I should let you return to your work," she told him. "It's late."
"Stay a moment longer," he said. "Tell me about your day."
The simple request almost reduced her to sobs. So she stayed, and they talked of small things—the mabari pups, the new recipe for sweet rolls the kitchen had tried today, and Ben's favourite foal in the stables. She committed every word, every laugh, and every expression to memory.
And when it was late enough, even he would retire for the night; he walked her to her room, gave her a peck on the cheek, and bid her goodnight.
She watched him walk down the hallway.
I love you. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me.
When she entered her room, Tai stood there with their things. "Ready?"
"No," she replied, accepting her pack and following him out to the balcony anyway.