They scaled the building to Hirik's room. It wasn't the first time they had done it, and both Evie and Tai were skilled in the art of stealth. They had no fear of being caught, especially since they knew what heavy sleepers Aunt Felsi and Uncle Oghren were.
They climbed up to the window, Tai using his dagger to pry it open enough she could slip her fingers in and pull it outwards. They crept into the room, the creaky floorboards silent under their feet. They could see the outline of Hirik's form on the bed in the dark.
Evie knew where the oil lamp was kept, and she sparked the flame, lighting the room up, and then Tai woke Hirik. The boy wasn't instantly alert, but he did sit up, staring at them bleary-eyed. They had missed him while they had been confined to the castle, and they both wrapped their arms around him.
"What's going on?" He asked them, his voice a louder whisper than they would have preferred.
"We're leaving," Tai said. "Going to Orlais to get Kieran then making our own fortune. We might never come back. Coming?"
They watched him. It would be harder for Hirik to leave his home; both his parents were here, and he didn't have an undesirable marriage forcing him to flee.
Eventually he nodded, getting out of bed to pack his things. Both Evie and Tai breathed a silent sigh of relief. They honestly hadn't been sure which way he would lean.
"We'll help you pack," Tai said. "You write a letter to your parents. Rather not have them think we kidnapped you."
"They're not that stupid," Hirik told him. "But they know how stupid I am. They'll know I agreed."
Evie stifled a giggle, feeling a little lighter at just seeing her dear friend again. She and Tai started grabbing things they thought Hirik might need, stuffing them into his pack.
"Where are your smalls?" Tai asked.
"Why would I wear those?"
Both Tai and Evie pulled a face before shoving more things in his pack. Hirik left the letter on his pillow, changed his clothes, secured his axe to his back, and then climbed out the window with them.
While Tai and Evie could climb down easily and silently, Hirik was going to have a bit of trouble. Tai took his axe, and Evie took his pack, scaling down the wall. They stared up at Hirik, trying to figure out how to get him down. He could jump, but that might be a bit loud. Before they could come up with an idea, he did just jump. When he hit the ground, they all froze, listening to see if the sound had woken anyone up. When they thought they heard a creak inside, all three of them gathered up their things and ran for it, disappearing into the night and unsure if they would ever set foot back in this city again.
Evie was torn between her fear, a sense of adventure, guilt, excitement, and sadness. But she had Tai, Hirik, and no doubt Kieran would join them. They had the world at their feet.
-
Alistair forced himself to sit up when he heard the maids enter to wake him, open the drapes, and practically harangue him out of bed. He rubbed his tired eyes. After walking Evie to her room last night and retiring to his own, sleep had come quickly, but it had been fitful. Even after so long, he still missed sleeping next to Mareven. Sleeping with her in their smelly little tent was leagues better than sleeping on this massive bed alone.
He flinched as the drapes opened, morning sunlight pouring in. An envelope on the bedside table caught his eye. He was certain that hadn't been there when he'd gone to bed last night.
His name was written on it, but he recognised the beautiful flowing script as Evie's. And the wax seal that bore her personal mark—a musical note, she called it a treble clef. Brow furrowed and unease settling in the pit of his stomach, he tore it open, pulling out the letter.
His eyes moved across the page, at first with curiosity, then widening alarm, and finally with a deepening horror that drained the colour from his face.
"No," he whispered, the single word falling like a stone in the quiet chamber.
He read it again, hands trembling so violently the parchment rustled. Each word cut deeper than any assassin's blade could have even hoped to reach.
"Perhaps my departure may ultimately bring you peace."
"Consider my absence not a betrayal, but my final gift to you—freedom from the complications I brought..."
"No," he said again, louder this time, as if Evie might hear him and return. "No no no."
Never had he considered her a burden.
He stood abruptly, the maids watching in surprise and curiosity as he stormed from his chambers, still clutching the letter. Guards startled to attention as he swept past them, his nightclothes and dishevelled appearance causing raised eyebrows that no one dared voice.
"Your Majesty," Eamon called, hurrying to catch up. "The delegation from the Free Marches—"
"Not now," the king growled, not breaking stride.
Evie's chambers weren't far, and he ignored the startled faces of maids and footmen along the way. His heart hammered against his chest, each beat a desperate prayer: She wouldn't. She wouldn't. She wouldn't.
The door to her chambers stood slightly ajar. He pushed it open with trembling hands.
The room was immaculate. Bed made. Windows shuttered. Personal items remained—books, a winter cloak, things that would slow a swift departure. But the silver-inlaid bow he had gifted her was gone. So were the little figurines depicting her family. He reached out to the lone figure representing her, gripping it tightly in his hand.
"Evie," he said to the empty room, as if she might materialise from the shadows.
He crossed to her wardrobe, flinging it open. Her most favoured clothes and a couple of her dresses were gone. He moved to her desk, pulling open drawers. The organised chaos of her life—sketches, letters, paintbrushes, graphite, pigments—remained, but anything truly precious was gone.
"Your Majesty?" The captain of the Royal Guard appeared in the doorway, confusion evident in his voice.
The king turned, a terrible stillness coming over him. "My daughter is gone."
"Gone?"
"Fled. Last night." The king held up the letter, then let his hand fall. "Assemble the Royal Guard. Every available man. Search parties at each gate, along every road leading from the capital."
The captain's eyes widened. "All of them? But sir, the Chantry's procession—"
"Damn the procession!" The king's voice echoed through the chamber. "Just find her!"
The captain bowed hastily. "Yes, Your Majesty. At once."
As the man hurried away, Alistair glanced about the room. Tai!
Alistair stalked from the bedchamber, making his way to the boys suite. He threw the door open, finding it in much the same state as Evie's. Empty. Anything of importance gone. And sitting on his desk was a letter addressed to Shae and Zevran; he suspected it was as much an explanation for their actions as Evie had given him.
At least Evie wasn't alone.
"The Queen," Alistair whispered. Evie had mentioned her in her letter.
He marched out of Tai's room, making his way to Anora's chambers.
"Your Majesty!" A guard called. "You have—"
"Out of the way," Alistair heard Oghren's voice, and the guard was shoved aside as Oghren and Felsi entered the hallway.
Alistair's heart sank. Hirik. Of course he would be involved.
"What is going on, Alistair?" Felsi demanded, waving a letter about in her hand.
Alistair plucked it from her fingers, skimming it. It was clearly written quickly and gave no details as to where they may have gone.
"Evie and Tai have run?" Oghren asked.
"Yes," he confirmed. "I found Evie's letter when I woke up." He gestured towards the room he had just exited. "She and Tai are gone."
"Because of this marriage Hirik mentioned?" Felsi asked.
Alistair ran a hand through his dishevelled hair.
"Anora arranged a betrothal between Evie and Lord Renvar's cousin."
"Renvar?" Felsi's face darkened. "The man is older than you, and his reputation is... troubling."
"I was assured the rumours were exaggerated," Alistair said, though doubt clouded his voice.
"And you agreed to this?" Felsi asked, maternal protectiveness rearing its head.
Alistair met her gaze directly. "I was told Evie had consented. It seems I was misled."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"Those three," Oghren muttered, a chuckle escaping him. "Always rushing headlong into trouble together."
"Rushing headlong into stupid," Felsi corrected, a mixture of exasperation and fear in her voice. "They've clearly hatched this scheme overnight. They have no provisions, no safe destination—"
"I suspect their destination will be Orlais. I intend to dispatch riders to the university in hopes they'll beat the three there when they attempt to reach out to Kieran. If they make it that far."
"I can't believe they would be so reckless," Felsi sighed.
Both Oghren and Alistair looked at her like she'd grown a second head.
"Fine. I can. But I am still livid! I can't believe they've dragged Hirik into this."
"Dragged?" Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Hirik's never needed much convincing."
"And he's never been able to say no to either of them."
"None of them ever say no to each other," Alistair corrected. "That's always been their strength. And their undoing."
"Do you think they have enough coin between them to make the journey?" Felsi asked.
"Hirik keeps a surprising amount of gold hidden," Oghren said. "Earnings from those card games you pretend not to know about, Alistair."
Alistair couldn't help but smile slightly. "Tai's quite good at cards as well. And dice."
"And Evie?" Felsi asked. "What would she have taken?"
"Jewellery, most likely. It'll be worth a small fortune. And she has her lute."
She could always earn. The three parents looked at each other, a strange mixture of fear and reluctant pride passing between them.
"They're resourceful," Oghren said finally. "And together..."
"Together they've always been a force to be reckoned with. Especially when you add Kieran to the mix," Alistair finished. "But this is different from their childhood pranks. The world beyond these walls won't find their antics amusing."
"When those three are together, restraint has never been their strong suit," Felsi agreed.
"Especially when one of them is in trouble," Oghren added. "They've been defending each other since they were little."
"I remember," Alistair said, his mind drifting to the countless incidents over the years. "When Evie took the blame for the fire in the east wing, though we all knew it was Hirik experimenting with those powders."
"Or when Tai challenged Lord Dairon's son to a duel for insulting Hirik for being a dwarf?" Felsi added.
"And Hirik nearly drowned trying to retrieve Evie's bracelet from the river," Oghren finished. "They've always been fiercely loyal to each other."
"Sometimes to the point of foolishness," Alistair said, though there was a softness to his tone. "We've raised three remarkably stubborn, loyal, and impulsive idiots."
"I would still like to wring my son's neck," Felsi muttered.
"We all would. But first, we have to find them."
"And when they're found, will you force Evie into this marriage?" Felsi asked, an edge to her tone.
"No," he said firmly. "No, that arrangement is finished. Now, I need to speak with the queen."
He stalked off to the Anoras chambers with the promise he would keep the pair updated on the search.
He found her sitting at her dressing table, Erlina arranging her hair for the day.
"Leave us," he commanded, startling her handmaid, who looked to the queen for confirmation.
Anora nodded serenely. "You may go, Erlina."
The maid scurried out, closing the doors behind her.
Anora merely turned back to the mirror as if the king's dishevelled appearance and obvious distress weren't worth the time. "The girl has fled then. Most unseemly."
"You knew," his voice was dangerously quiet.
"I suspected she might do something foolish," she corrected, selecting golden earrings and putting them on. "She lacks proper breeding. But I didn't think she would dishonour you so completely."
"Honour?" He advanced on her. "You speak about honour while using my daughter as a pawn?"
Her eyes met his in the mirror, cold and assessing. "She was always a pawn, Alistair. The only question was whose. I simply sought to deploy her where she could be the most use."
"You told me she agreed willingly," he said, holding up the crumpled letter. "You lied."
"I expedited a necessary arrangement," her voice remained calm. Well practiced in confrontations. "She would have eventually seen reason had you not indulged her so."
"Indulged her?"
"Yes, Alistair. Indulged her. And I find it curious that you rush here in such a state over a girl who has done nothing but disrespect you."
"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed.
"Did her letter not mention young Tairyn?" Her tone was almost conversational, though she watched carefully for the impact of her words.
"Tai? No, but I know they've run off together. Which is hardly surprising; those two have been inseparable since childhood." His expression darkened. "But what has that to do with disrespect?"
"Everything, I should think." She selected a necklace to match. "She gave herself to him. Just once, as I understand it. But once is all it takes to ruin a valuable arrangement."
The king stared, disbelief giving way to confusion. "That's impossible. Tai is like family to her. They're...they're partners in mischief, not—"
"Oh, Alistair." Her voice held something almost like pity. "For a man who commands armies, you can be remarkably blind to conspiracies hatched under your own roof. They weren't lovers in any romantic sense. It was a calculated act."
"What are you saying?" Alistair's voice had gone deathly quiet.
"I'm saying your daughter and your ward engineered her ruination quite deliberately. A single night, a single act, making her unsuitable for the marriage I arranged." The queen's lips curved in what might have been admiration. "Quite clever, really. She knew that even Master Renvar would baulk at damaged goods."
Alisair stood frozen, recalibrating everything he thought he knew. Then, surprisingly, a harsh bark of laughter escaped him.
"I should have seen this coming," he said, more to himself than to the queen. "Those two never say no to each other, no matter how outrageous the scheme."
"You seem almost... proud," Anora observed with a hint of disapproval.
"Not proud. But not entirely surprised either." He waved the second letter. "And now I learn Hirik has joined them as well. The unholy triumvirate, loose in the world."
"The dwarven boy?" Anora's brow furrowed slightly. "I wasn't aware he was involved."
"His parents arrived this morning; he left a letter of his own." Alisair sighed heavily. "They've always been inseparable, those three." The king moved to the window, looking out over the kingdom. "Their last adventure nearly ruined the marketplace."
"How could I forget? Repairs are still incomplete."
"And the time they released all the prized hunting falcons during the Saturnalia Feast." Despite himself, a faint smile tugged at the king's lips. "Lord Arnger still won't sit near the windows during formal dinners."
"You've always been too lenient with their... shenanigans," the queen said coolly. "Treated them as children long after they ceased to be such. And now see where it's led. They've undermined a valuable alliance and fled like common criminals."
His momentary amusement faded. "You knew nothing of their plans to run?"
"I knew your daughter was wilful and desperate. I increased the guards around her quarters but clearly underestimated the resourcefulness of three determined troublemakers with a lifetime of practice evading authority." There was a note of grudging respect in the queen's voice.
"Hirik's letter says they've gone to seek their fortunes together. To 'find their own way in the world,' as he puts it." Alistair rubbed his temples. "At least we know they're together. They've always been stronger as a unit."
"Your concern should be for the kingdom, not for three wayward children who have deliberately sabotaged my diplomatic efforts." Anora's voice hardened. "What will you tell Master Renvar?"
"The truth. That the arrangement is no longer viable."
"And when he demands to know why?"
"I will deal with Renvar," Alistair said firmly. "What concerns me more is finding these three before they land themselves in real danger."
"So you intend to pursue them? To what end? Will you drag them back and force your daughter into a marriage she's gone to such... extreme lengths to avoid?"
"No, I won't condemn her to that. But I can't simply let them vanish either. They're barely more than children, for all their cleverness."
"They're old enough to understand the consequences of their actions," Anora replied. "Perhaps it's time they faced those consequences without your protection."
"She believes she was a burden to me," he said through gritted teeth. "That her absence is a gift. Clearly there are things I have not protected her from. What have we done to her, Anora?"
For a moment, something like regret flickered across her face before it hardened once more. "What's done is done. The girl has made her choice. Let her live with it."
"I'm going after her."
"Don't be absurd. You're the king, not some lovesick swain chasing a runaway bride."
"I'm her father first. I've failed her in every way that matters. I won't fail her in this."
"You are a king first, Alistair, a role you've never shirked until now."
He stared at the woman he had been married to for near twenty years. As regrettable as it was, he'd spent more time with her than he had Mareven, the love of his life. They had built a stable kingdom. Secure borders. Prosperous trade. Peace that had lasted since the Blight. There were ups and downs, of course, miscarriages, the mage rebellion, and the Breach most notably. But they had weathered those storms.
"Are you afraid she'll find her soulmate out there?" Anora suddenly asked.
"What?" He swallowed hard. "Why would I fear that?"
"Because you lied to her about him? There is no Leo Andreozzi. I've yet to learn what you so fear about this Lucanis Dellamorte, but I'm sure I'll find it in time."
As far as he knew, Anora didn't read or speak Antivan. How had she learnt the true name?
"When Evie returns, you will not mention this to her," he warned, his voice hard and his eyes glacial.
He and Zevran had agreed it would be for the best she not know the true identity of her soulmate. While Zevran had never met him personally, he knew the family, and he had heard plenty of stories of the man since. It was for her own safety. Being entwined with such a family—a family who still had a contract on her uncle's head, no less—would only put her in danger.
It was a small blessing Evie had never sought to learn Antivan.
"I will find them," he insisted. "And when Evie is home, you'll treat her with respect. Not as a pawn, not as a tool, and not as a threat to our son's position. Understood?"
The queen inclined her head slightly.
Having gotten what he wanted, he left. He needed to find Evie. He needed to tell her she was never a burden. That she needn't run to find freedom.
You loved me. Despite everything, you loved me.
Despite nothing. Loving her was as instinctive as breathing. And he had always been proud to be her father, regardless of the complications or the gossip.
What kind of a father was he to have let such a mindset take hold of her?