Nobility

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11 Wintersend, 9:42

Cullen was enjoying this trip to Val Royeaux even less than he had expected to—and his expectations had never been very high. He had a strong distaste for Orlais and Orlesians and their infernal Game. Knowing that Antonia was going to be walking head-first into the lion's den and he had no way to stop it or to protect her from whatever plans Corypheus and his assassin might have for her made it even worse.

And now he wasn't even allowed to touch her to reassure himself. Not that he disagreed, necessarily. He trusted Leliana and Josephine in this, their sphere of work, as he would expect them to trust him if they were on the battlefield. And it made sense that they would need all the members of their party to be able to keep their ears and eyes open and use whatever tools were at their disposal.

Still. He had come to count on the touches, the kisses, the glances between them as reminders that she was real, that they were real. "This is going to be horrible," he muttered to Antonia, who was riding beside him.

"Which part?" she asked. "The uniforms, the dancing, the flirting, or—"

He looked at her, deliberately running his gaze up and down her body.

"Oh, that." She grinned. "Maybe it'll be good for you."

"How is that?"

Antonia gave him a slow wink that did nothing for his intention to comply with Leliana's orders. "Inspirational."

"Hm."

"Cullen, can I ask you a question?"

"Always."

"Do you remember the day you kissed me on the battlements? The first time," she clarified, when he gave her a sidelong look to remind her of the many, many times he had kissed her on the battlements.

"Could I forget?" Cullen could still remember the disbelief and the dawning joy of that moment when he first understood that maybe it was possible after all, as if it had been yesterday.

"How long had you wanted to do that?"

He laughed. "Longer than I should admit."

"How long was that?"

"The first time I ever thought about kissing you? It was on the training grounds, in Haven. You looked up at me, and—" He shivered. "I thought it was ... ridiculous of me to even think such a thing. I never would have imagined, not in a thousand ages."

Antonia reached for his hand, then drew hers back, remembering their orders. "So, when you said you 'couldn't say you hadn't wondered what it would be like'," aping his accent, "what was that, the understatement of the age?"

He chuckled. "Something like that. What was I going to say, that you were all I'd been able to think about for months on end?" Some part of Cullen couldn't believe he was admitting all these things out loud so casually ... but then, she knew, of course she did, and that she loved hearing it was equally evident from the smile on her face.

"I wouldn't have minded that at all."

"How long had you been thinking of it?"

"Haven. Training grounds. It might even have been the same moment. But I thought—I thought ... by the time I was sure it was mutual, I was the Inquisitor, and I didn't know if it was right for me to try to have my own life."

"What changed your mind?"

She looked over at him, almost shyly. "I ... couldn't not think about you."

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