The banquet was a dull affair. Another in a long line of tedious duties Evelyn Trevelyan had to perform as the Inquisitor. All those parties were slowly blending into one.
It didn't matter where they took place or who was in attendance - it was all the same. She wasn't sure if she hated playing hostess or being the guest of honor more.
Each came with its own set of annoying responsibilities.
At least when she was the one visiting, she didn't have to approve the guest list and fret over the amount of wine, which was something of a blessing she supposed.
A servant in the Inquisition's livery passed her by, and Evelyn grabbed a glass from his tray.
There should be enough to drink for everyone, but if there wasn't, she intended to drink before the barrels ran dry. She deserved a drink.
The preparations for this event were long, and Evelyn wanted to congratulate herself on a job well done.
Skyhold looked remarkable - every corner so clean it almost sparkled, beautiful flowers adorning long tables laden with food, innumerable candles illuminating the main hall.
Everything had to be perfect. It was not every day that a king came calling.
Alistair Theirin of Ferelden had arrived weeks before, with little to no warning, making everyone scramble to accommodate him, which meant that a proper party had to be pushed back,
and not hosted immediately upon his arrival.
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