There was a hesitancy in the Princess accepting the compliments ascribed to her. Adaria took a moment to reflect, a wave of nostalgia washing over her before she finally nodded in acknowledgement, a faint smile curving her lips. I’ve always walked in his shadow, but I never want to be him. I suppose, in some ways I’ve been afraid of being reduced to just a reflection, or cheap imitation of him. Thank you, Zevran. And you’re right - my path is my own, even if his legacy and responsibilities weigh heavily.
The enthusiasm her plotting resulted in slowed the smile fading into a more serious edge. I knew you’d appreciate the bite of such a plan. A dash of chaos, though I agree, if we miscalculate it could spiral out of control. Having it take on a life of it’s own was not going to benefit them, Rumours… we’ll plant them subtly. Let the idea take root on it’s own before the event. They’d help steer the ship, but controlling the narrative would be the hardest part.
As for our choice of assassin… It could be someone known, a rival perhaps? Someone with enough reputation to make it believable - but that would make it personal. The edge of her lips twitched in disagreement. Perhaps we do instead what you suggest. We allow the mystery to build? Although ambiguity could stoke more fear - fear of an unknown threat lurking in the shadows.
There was a long pause as Adaria reflected on his questions surrounding her motives, her true goal beyond the simple, flippant response of: because it would be hilarious. No. It went deeper than scratching the itch of selfish instant gratification. What do I hope to gain? the chuckle falling softly from her throat was one of calculative amusement. It’s not just about sending a message, though it’s certainly part of it. Oh no. The chessboard was shrouded, pieces in play were obscured and she had endured enough of the dust maintaining their cover. It was time the wind flushed out some of the key players. There are those who watch from the shadows, waiting to see if I, or my brothers, will falter, and I want them to know I won’t.
But more than that, I need to draw out the vipers in hiding. The ones who smile at me in public but whisper against us in private. I need to solidify my place as head, despite the crown not being on my head. Yet. If her brother didn’t weather the coming storm she would haul the ship clear, and take the role from him for the betterment of all. Family or not, the country demanded it.
Zevran listened intently, the glimmer of a strategist’s approval flickering in his eyes as Adaria articulated her plan, her resolve sharpening with each word. He admired her calculated approach, the restrained fury that drove her and the unyielding loyalty to her homeland. In her, he saw not only the heir but the leader Antiva needed.
He leaned forward, his voice barely above a murmur, a tone reserved for sharing secrets and unspoken alliances.
Then let’s give them a spectacle they won’t soon forget. A dance of shadows, a calculated mystery that will leave them questioning every friendly face they pass. The faintest rumor here, a whispered threat there—by the time your Nameday arrives, they will be looking over their shoulders, wondering which shadow holds a knife.
Zevran’s grin was sharp, his expression slipping into that of an assassin relishing the thought of a dangerous game well played. The key will be timing, my dear. Too soon, and they may grow too fearful and scurry into deeper hiding. Too late, and our ‘assassin’ won’t have the full impact. But if we do this right, the unknown threat will dangle just close enough to draw them out, flushed from their hiding spots like the rodents they are.
He watched her, gauging her reaction, knowing she understood the intricacies of power plays like few others her age. And as for your brothers… He paused, searching for the right words, his tone softening. Not every soul can carry the weight of Antiva’s crown. Should that time come, you must be ready to bear it. And I believe you will be. But until then, perhaps we should ensure they remain… somewhat useful.
With a last sip of his tea, Zevran leaned back, a playful glint returning to his eyes as he added, And might I say, this is shaping up to be the most entertaining Nameday I’ve had the pleasure to help plan. I do look forward to it, Adaria. They’ll all remember that day—and, more importantly, they’ll remember *you.*
As he spoke, he knew this was more than just a scheme to strengthen her position; it was her first true demonstration of command.
Her fury had been sated. For now. There was still a level of turmoil that travelled within a current under the surface, but currently subdued in light of their planning. Adaria played with the cup in her hand, turning it around the saucer with a thumb and forefinger. Nodding with his assessment, the Princess quietly listened to his various responses.
The timing can be worked on closer to the occasion. Currently there are few concrete plans that have been finalised. Even the location is still uncertain, but we must also remember that it is also my Sister’s day. No doubt Byron would be planning something, if even for appearances sake. If he has any sense he’ll arrange something for us both, but we can set the ground work in motion, just omit some details until we have the information available for dissemination.
A trickle of rumours was better than flooding and potentially muddying the waters, then they’d obscure everything than allowing their prey to surface. I can’t wait to go rat hunting. Perhaps once I’ve caught a few, we can make them a choir and they can entertain or shock us with their curious melodies.
Bringing her cup towards her lips, Adaria paused before taking a sip. I’m not sure. My Father was very good at pulling such stunts. I believe Madam Ferris still refuses cake for fear of poisoning.
Her request heard, Adaria considered him from her chair, hesitating at first before asking him directly. Now that business is conducted, why don’t you tell me some real gossip, Mhmm? Orlais claims to be a cesspit of scandal but I am terribly bored.
Zevran’s grin widened at Adaria’s request for gossip, a gleam of mischief lighting up his eyes. The serious tone of their conversation was giving way to something far more enjoyable, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand, clearly delighted by the sudden shift in mood.
Ah, now we get to the fun part, do we? You want the real dirt, not just the political schemes and courtly nonsense. Well, my dear Adaria, you’ve come to the right person. He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, like a cat purring before pouncing on its prey.
He let a beat of silence pass, as if deciding where to start, before finally launching into it. Orlais, for all its pretense, is indeed a cesspit, as you say. They’re just very good at pretending their scandals are elegant affairs. But the truth? He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret meant only for her ears. I’ve heard rumors—juicy ones—about the Chevalier de Fontenay, a supposed paragon of honor. You see, it turns out that beneath all that polished armor and self-righteousness, the man has been… let’s say, taking his duties to the ladies of the court a bit too far. Multiple women, married and otherwise, have found themselves in *compromising* situations with him. But here’s the real kicker—one of those ladies? The wife of the Grand Duke’s cousin. Oops.
Zevran’s grin grew even wider as he leaned back again, clearly enjoying himself. And it gets better. Apparently, there’s talk that the Duke himself might have known about it—perhaps even arranged a little ‘accident’ for his dear cousin in the hunting grounds last year. A tragic loss, of course, but it’s amazing how convenient these tragedies can be, isn’t it?
He paused to sip his tea, his eyes never leaving hers, gauging her reaction to the story before continuing.
But if you’re bored with Orlais already, let’s move closer to home. You want to hear about Antiva, yes? I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground, and let me tell you, things are stirring. I hear there’s been a lot of quiet movement among some of the Merchant Princes—gatherings that are happening without the usual fanfare. Seems they’re planning something, though no one knows exactly what just yet. Could be as simple as trade deals, or as dangerous as a coup, and with the state the Crows are in, stretched a bit too thin these days, well they believe they may be poised to a grab for power.
With the meat of their business over, Adaria relaxed back into her chair, leisurely taking sips as he stepped up the plate. Amusement filled her face, his eagerness infectious even if she wasn’t one to care often about the frivolous scandal of the day. Minds were so easily read to find the truth of such things, but being in Orlais her picking’s paled to the resources of home. Orlesian’s may believe themselves to be the winners of gossip, but Antivan’s came into their element when a scandal was brewing.
Adaria scoffed, her eyes rolling briefly as she took the cup back towards her lips. A not-so-galant-knight is hardly anything new. Chevalier’s are pigs who mask their own quest for glory behind the guise of nobility. I hope none of them, cousin’s wife included, don’t suddenly pop out in six months.
Even if the trope was a common one, the players involved were a treat to the ears. It’s as if none of them have heard of discretion before, she chuckled, then shrugged at his next rumour. An accident, surely, what a pity. Hunting was terribly dangerous, a beast could appear from anywhere and fell the unprepared.
Setting the cup back into the saucer, Adaria returned it to the table and poured herself some more as she listened. Trade is likely, though we both know the Princes crave more power than they are due, or can handle. No fanfare? Then they are certainly scheming something of scale… best keep a watchful eye. Scuttle a few of their ships, see what it stirs in their circles. With any chance it’ll disrupt what little trust they have in one another and give us time to understand their scheme better.
Zevran’s smile remained as he settled back, letting the conversation flow naturally, his gaze sharp with approval at her casual suggestions. Adaria's approach to handling the Merchant Princes’ ambitions mirrored the efficiency and precision he so admired in her.
Ah, now there’s the Adaria I know, ready to dismantle their plots before they even catch wind of it. He paused, watching her with a glint of admiration. And with finesse, no less. Scuttling a few ships is a marvelous choice—it’ll send just enough of a message without revealing your hand. Besides, the ripple effect in those circles will be far more devastating than any overt interference.
He poured himself a bit more tea, continuing in a low tone, clearly delighted by the turn their conversation had taken.
And should the Princes suspect each other, well... I imagine they’ll turn on one another faster than any outside foe. Their alliances are as fickle as the tides, after all. He tapped a finger to his lips, savoring the thought. A few well-placed rumors, perhaps a hint that certain Princes have been meeting with... shall we say, unknown benefactors? I could have a word with some contacts, let that little tidbit drift through their circles and watch the fireworks from a safe distance.
He leaned back, his eyes bright with satisfaction. I must say, my dear Adaria, it’s a rare pleasure to strategize with someone as sharp as yourself. Taking another sip, he allowed a rare moment of sincerity to surface beneath his playful charm. Though, for all your planning and foresight, do remember, my friend... even those of us in the shadows need allies we can rely on. Should the vipers close in on you, call for me, and I’ll be there with blade ready. Always.
Zevran let the silence settle after his last words, the weight of his promise lingering between them. Then, with a small, almost reluctant sigh, he leaned forward and set his cup back on the table, his fingers brushing its edge thoughtfully.
But, if there’s nothing else, he said, with a faint, playful tilt of his head, I suppose I should probably be on my way. Can’t have the shadows thinking I’ve gone soft, lingering over tea and scandal in such fine company.
He rose with a graceful ease, adjusting his gloves as he looked down at her, his expression softening for just a moment. But remember, my dear Adaria: at the first sign of a snake, give me a call. I'd hate to miss the festivities.
Adaria smirked, then shrugged lightly. It’s easier to dismantle them when there is already so much distrust amongst them. Besides, she did not spend her time at Court for nothing when it was in session. Back then she had endured the parties and social preening for one thing, and one thing alone. Their weak minded defences against her probing. Adaria might have seemed disinterested in the flattery and attempts at conversation, focusing on a puzzle or book when approached, but she was gathering and sifting through the thoughts and intentions of those in the room. The little people knew of her magic, the better, and her reluctance in showing off unless necessary, cultivated the masses opinion that she deferred to her father’s youthful temperament.
My hand is the least of their concerns currently. I’m still considered a child, despite being old enough to wed, happily a woman of leisure and study and not important, yet. Oh they would regret underestimating just how far her reach went. Reform was the only way forward if they were to survive after what Elgar’nan had left them with. Reputations in tatters and potentially every neighbour was an enemy, waiting for them to fall, Gio had struggled to put out the fires threatening to engulf their homeland.
We might not need to plant any rumours. Reminding them of their past grievances could be enough to fan those flames. Adaria sighed, taking another sip of her tea. Grudges are dangerous things, they run deep and can tunnel one's vision. Like revenge sometimes, it could swallow a person entirely, change and warp them or help establish a strength they didn’t quite understand. Not true strength, but sometimes hate would win.
She chuckled at his admission, the playful charm giving way to a moment of sincerity. Adaria smiled, reaching over to pat the arm closest. There are few who know me, the real me. Most compare me to my Father, or Mother, siblings, past Campana’s… You recognise my Father in me, but acknowledge that I am more than him, her, I have my own mind. Sighing, she went on. I have never had many friends, and you I count among them. If you have the same need of me, I will answer, I have no intention of abandoning those dear to me, dear to Antiva’s chance of redeeming itself.
Watching him stand, Adaria set her tea aside to take his hand in hers, squeezing them gently. As short as it was, it is always a delight when you visit me, Zevran. One day, soon I hope, we can actually enjoy each other's company longer, undecided by the selfishness of others. Giving his hand a final squeeze, the Princess bid him good day and left him to leave himself out. The moment the shadows appealed to him he’d now doubt be gone, even before crossing back out the threshold of her aunt's estate.
