Chapter Text
Cassandra burst through the war room doors more forcefully than she intended. A new merchant had requested permission to set up in Skyhold’s lower courtyard, and apparently she had been the closest senior member of the Inquisition to handle it. After refusing his proffered wares several times over--she had no need for a blue silk scarf, no matter what Dorian said--she had missed the start of the daily advisory meeting. Although she abhorred being tardy, at least the interruption had reduced the time she was now required to participate.
At the start, she had enjoyed the strategy sessions. Discussing troop movements, planning scouting expeditions, reviewing the reports from Leliana's network of spies--those were all tasks she particularly well-suited for. However, as the Inquisition's sphere of influence grew, more and more of their work was now dedicated to political matters. The Inquisitor spent most of the meetings discussing frivolous topics like which invitations to decline and why, what letters to respond to and how, and whether her intervention (or lack thereof) would exacerbate some decades-long feud between two noble houses trying to claw back to relevancy.
Cassandra hated it. Cullen did, too. Most of those meetings were spent with them exchanging exasperated sighs, while the Inquisitor bickered with Josephine over the right course of action. Leliana usually stayed off to the side, composing orders for her agents and interjecting only to break any ties.
Thinking of Everly brought the hint of a smile to Cassandra’s face. The Inquisitor hated politics but was an inexhaustible debater, and peppered Josephine question upon question, demanding to know who exactly they were discussing and why she should care. Cassandra couldn’t help but be amused in those moments. Everly always bounced around the room while she spoke, unable to contain her exuberance when she made a well-argued point. Josephine was a fierce opponent, though, and never backed down from the energetic onslaught. Their verbal sparring was often a highlight of Cassandra’s day, even if the content itself bored her to tears. But as entertaining as it was, as time went on more of Everly’s debates were borne of frustration, not playfulness, and the line of her jaw grew harder despite her smile.
The first thing Cassandra saw when she arrived was Everly, perched on the war table. She was crouched on the east end, one knee jutting out towards the Storm Coast, the other pointing at the Fallow Mire. Her heels nearly grazed a bottle of wine set off to the side, left over from yesterday’s session. The sight was ridiculous, but sadly not uncommon. What was uncommon, however, was the attention the Inquisitor fixed on Cullen.
“I don’t see the issue,” Everly said evenly. Grey eyes flicked over to Cassandra but then quickly returned to Cullen. She shuffled the stack of letters in her hands.
A flustered look crossed Cullen’s face. Cassandra approached the table, swallowing her usual order to get off the damn furniture. She clasped her hands behind her back and arched a brow. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
“I just didn’t realize you were conducting barracks inspections, that’s all,” Cullen said.
Cassandra cocked her head. “Barracks inspect--?” She froze before she could finish her sentence. A hot blush began working its way up to her face and she was immediately grateful for the high collar of her breastplate.
That had been Everly’s doing. Cassandra still had no idea how she had managed to coax her into the barracks that day. All she knew was that suddenly Everly’s mouth was on hers, soft yet insistent, and a pair of strong hands were tugging at her belt as she was being backed onto an empty bunk. Afterwards, Cassandra had emerged lightheaded and on shaky legs. The rest of her day had gone by in a haze.
She exacted her revenge several days later. The Inquisitor had been darting back and forth across the training yard and upper courtyard all morning, seemingly determined to be in all areas of Skyhold at once, and the sight drove Cassandra to distraction. Finally, she had taken matters into her own hands. During Everly’s next lap, Cassandra had snatched her by the collar and yanked her into the barracks. In one smooth motion, Cassandra had lifted Everly onto the nearest window sill and slid her hand down the front of Everly’s breeches. Within seconds, Everly had buried her face in Cassandra’s neck, trying to bite back her moans.
Cassandra wasn’t completely sure who started it the third time.
Or the fourth.
“Yes, I’ve been told you started inspecting the troops’ quarters regularly.” Cullen frowned. “I wish you would have told me. Those are my soldiers.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to respond, but thankfully Everly interjected before she was forced to fabricate something.
“That was my fault,” Everly said. “Since we have so many more new recruits, I thought it would be prudent, but I didn’t wish to add to your duties. I’m sorry. You should have been informed.”
Cullen appeared taken aback by the Inquisitor’s admission. “It’s not a problem, Inquisitor. I can have Rylen schedule regular inspections. There’s no need to bother the Seeker.”
Everly nodded and glanced over at Cassandra again. She looked down at the reports in her hands, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. Cassandra exhaled, then joined Cullen at the west end of the war table, deliberately placing herself as far away from the Inquisitor as possible. Cassandra fought back a surge of guilt as she looked at the guileless commander. She despised the deception surrounding their relationship, even though she knew it was necessary at times. Although it wouldn’t have been needed if they weren’t being so indulgent with their public displays. As thrilling as the rendezvous were, they were completely inappropriate. Cassandra made a note to discuss that with Everly later.
Josephine had been prowling off to the side, hovering near the war table like a mountain lion quietly stalking its prey. As soon as Cullen finished speaking, she pounced. “Orlais,” was all she said, planting herself at the Inquisitor’s right knee.
Everly made a face.
“You know the political situation there is tenuous,” Josephine continued. “We ignore it at our peril.”
“Fine.” The Inquisitor grudgingly stood and jumped off the table, nearly kicking over several of Cullen’s miniature trebuchets. Still holding the letters in one hand, she walked over to the middle of the table and stared at the map of empire. She sighed. “What’s the latest?”
“Celene is holding Gaspard’s forces at bay, but just barely,” Josephine said. “A group of elves continue to sabotage both sides to draw out the conflict. Celene will be holding peace talks under the auspices of a grand masquerade. Every power in Orlais will be there. It is a perfect place for an assassin to hide.”
Everly frowned. “We’ve sent word, yes? Warned her?”
“I’ve sent messages to the Empress, but it is impossible to know if she’s received them.”
“What do you advise, then?” Everly’s frown deepened, and the expression on her face suggested she already knew the answer. Cassandra choked back a groan.
“I can arrange for an invitation to the ball.” Josephine’s dark brown eyes flicked over to Cassandra for a moment, then back to the Inquisitor. She jabbed her quill in Everly’s direction, obviously brooking no argument. “We must reach the Empress before the assassin can, and aid in the peace talks as much as we are able. If the empire falls, the resulting chaos will only benefit Corypheus.”
Everly sighed. She looked over at the other end of the war table, past Cassandra and Cullen to lock eyes with Leliana. The spymaster stepped away from the wall and silently moved forward.
“The Grand Game is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, Inquisitor,” Leliana said. “But, like any battle, you can train for it. We will ensure you are prepared. That we all are prepared.”
Cullen stiffened. He looked over at Cassandra, panic in his eyes at his implied fate. “All?”
Leliana didn’t hesitate. “Yes, all. Certainly the Court will expect all of the highest-ranking members of the Inquisition to attend. To only send a small delegation would be seen as an insult.” Her eyes twinkled in delight. “Therein lies your first lesson, commander: never be afraid to kiss a little ass.”
Everly snickered, earning a smile and a wink from the spymaster. Cullen grumbled something under his breath, too low for Cassandra to hear, but she was sure she echoed his sentiment. A scowl darkened her face. Even though Divine Justinia had never asked her Right Hand to involve herself in that arena, Cassandra had spent more than enough time in Orlais to despise the Game. As the Left Hand, though, Leliana had played with relish. Despite Leliana’s impenetrable mask, Cassandra felt a slight thrum of excitement run through the spymaster at the mention of the masquerade.
“Alright.” The Inquisitor gave Josephine a single nod.
“Excellent.” Josephine made a note on her parchment with a flick of her wrist and a pleased look. “I will make preparations immediately.”
The rest of the meeting continued much as Cassandra had anticipated. Josephine wrung out several more victories, successfully convincing the Inquisitor to hold two more formal dinners within the next month to appease several arls that Cassandra had never even heard of--Everly acquiesced far too easily on that one, she thought. Immediately after that, though, Everly refused Josephine’s request to mediate a dispute involving the livestock of three banns and loudly turned down yet another offer of marriage. Cassandra had to hide her smile.
Their debates carried on for most of the morning, punctuated by dramatic twirls of Josephine’s pen, and Everly alternating between sitting and standing on the war table. At one point, she started pacing, stalking from east to west even as Cullen was trying to lay out more miniatures. Cassandra watched Cullen grow more with more flustered with each pass Everly made, and finally took pity on him. She jerked her head once, sharply. Everly dismounted, never breaking her train of thought.
Morning stretched into afternoon, food and wine was brought and cleared, and finally the meeting started drawing to a close. Cassandra had spent a majority of the time discussing training and recruitment--the young Sutherland boy and his crew seemed promising, although she didn’t quite trust any of them yet--but as the day wore on her interest waned. Her back ached from the hard chair she had been sitting on, and her shoulders and arms were uncomfortably tight from inactivity. She longed to return to the training yard for another session before dinner. Then, perhaps, steal a moment or two with Everly. Her gaze lingered on the Inquisitor, whose pacing had finally ceased and was now rubbing tiredly at one eye with the heel of her hand. A burst of sheer affection filled her chest, and Cassandra had to remind herself to stay seated.
“Inquisitor, there is one more item before we adjourn.” Josephine said, casting a glance at Leliana. “It is something of a personal matter.”
“Yeah?” Everly wiped at her eyes again and placed both hands on her hips, waiting. Something in Josephine’s voice made Cassandra sit up straighter. There was a a hesitancy, almost timidness, that she had never before heard from the ambassador. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.
“Unfortunately it appears to be fairly serious.” Josephine handed the Inquisitor a small dispatch.
Almost immediately, a previously unseen muscle in her jaw began pulsating. A hush fell over the entire room. Cassandra rose from her chair. In two long strides she was next to Everly, brows knitted together in concern. Anger radiated off her, so powerful it was nearly overwhelming, and Cassandra almost had to take a step back.
“What is it?” she asked, very softly.
Everly's eyes were stone. She thrust the letter into the her hands and stalked over to the window, staring out over the courtyard with her fists clenched at her sides. Cassandra skimmed the crumpled parchment. It was from Everly’s oldest brother, Robb. She raised a brow. From what she knew, the siblings had barely communicated since Everly had been named Inquisitor. Apparently he was writing with an emergency; their uncle, Horace, had finally made a move on their family’s estate and actually established settlements on the far corners of the property, obviously intending to encroach upon the Trevelyan family’s acreage. The settlements were guarded by armed militiamen. A bold and offensive strategy, obviously intended to provoke a response from Robb, the young man tasked with caring for an infirm father while also defending his family’s land and honor. Cassandra felt a pang of sympathy, followed by a stab of outrage on Everly’s behalf.
“Have you found it yet?” Everly had started pacing again, but this time her movements were frantic and uncontrolled. She stomped back and forth in front of the window, entire body shaking.
Leliana shook her head. “I’m sorry, my agents have been unable to locate the deed to the estate. It’s possible it was lost in the Blight. We are still looking.” She took a breath before continuing. “Unfortunately, though, it may not matter. The records we did find indicate that Horace Trevelyan’s grandfather recorded the conveyance before any other member of your immediate family and--”
“I don’t care. He knows it’s not his land.”
“That may be true--”
“Send a squad.”
Everyone froze.
“I - I don’t believe that is wise, Inquisitor,” Josephine said, exchanging a worried glance with Leliana before looking over at Cassandra for assistance. Her fingers quivered ever so slightly. “We’ve already dealt with numerous issues with your extended family, and sending soldiers could potentially be viewed as an occupying force--”
“Bullshit!” Trevelyan whipped around. Her lips were curled back in a snarl, her face flushed. The Anchor sparked to life, spitting green fire from her palm. She jabbed a glowing finger directly at Cullen. “You send in as many soldiers as you need to get them the hell off my father’s property. Now. And you tell that son of a bitch that if he ever tries this again, I will gut him like a deer.”
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Cassandra couldn’t be sure if it originated with her or another one of the advisors. Although she had only known Everly a few months, Cassandra had never thought her capable of such a display. Any semblance of her usual good cheer had completely evaporated, replaced by a wild, unchecked ferocity. Every muscle was coiled, tense, as if Everly was ready to pound someone with her bare hands. Grey eyes burning like searing coals.
“We’re done,” she said. She continued to pace, fists clenched at her sides.
Josephine opened her mouth to protest, exchanging looks with Cullen, who appeared utterly baffled as to how to proceed. Leliana began ushering them out of the room, both not before locking eyes with Cassandra. The soft click of the door closing was somehow impossibly loud, cutting through the stillness of the room.
Cassandra wondered how it must look to the other advisors, her alone with the Inquisitor, but almost immediately put the thought aside. She would not let Everly face this alone. She took a deep breath, then approached slowly, as if she were contending with a wounded animal. Everly’s shaking had increased as continued to pace, the Anchor crackling and hissing in shared fury.
Words had never come easily to Cassandra, and she couldn’t even begin to think of what to possibly say. For now, she did the only thing she could do. Cassandra took one step, planting herself in Everly’s path, then reached out and placed a firm hand on Everly’s chest, stopping her momentum.
Everly’s fists came up automatically, but Cassandra stood firm. Everly heaved a sigh and dropped her hands, her shoulders slumping forward. The trembling ceased. Cassandra pressed into Everly’s chest, ragged breathing steadying beneath her hand.
A long moment passed. With anyone else, it would have been too long, the silence and inactivity testing Cassandra’s patience. But now she was content to wait, feeling Everly’s chest rise and fall. She didn’t move, and Everly didn’t push her away.
“That estate has been in my father’s side of the family for generations.” Everly finally said. She avoided Cassandra’s eyes, turning her head to look out the window. “There’s always been fighting over it. I’m not even sure why. My uncle seems to think that he was cheated out of an inheritance somewhere. My father always managed to keep him at bay, though. I don’t know how. But then he got sick, and...and it was just Robb and I...and...”
A sad, broken sound slipped passed Everly’s lips. But she continued. “The last time I spoke to my father was just before I left for the Conclave. He called me by my mother’s name. He couldn’t remember ever having a daughter. I had to tell him she was dead two times. Two.” Everly swiped roughly at her face. “Do you know what it’s like to break a man’s heart over and over again? To be anyone but the person he wants most to see?”
The question hung in the air between them.
Cassandra had no answer.
Finally, Everly turned. Her cheeks wet with tears, grey eyes filled with grief. “You told me once you wondered how you were going to be remembered. I think I’ve already been forgotten.”
Cassandra’s heart nearly wrenched itself from her chest. Tears pricked at the corners of her own eyes, and she swallowed thickly. Her hand slid up Everly’s neck, tangling her fingers in the thick mop of hair, then pulled.
The harsh angles of her armor made a proper embrace difficult, but Cassandra tried anyway. She kept one hand on the back of Everly’s head while her other arm wrapped around her waist. She lowered her head, mouth grazing the curve of Everly’s ear. “You are not forgotten,” she whispered fiercely, not knowing what else to say, other than to instinctively fight against the hopelessness in Everly’s voice. “He will know of all you’ve done. He will. And you will tell him yourself when this is all over.”
Everly nodded quietly, leaning into the embrace. She wrapped both arms around Cassandra’s waist and tucked herself in further, her forehead thumping softly against Cassandra’s armored shoulder. Cassandra continued to stroke her hair.
“What would he say to you if he was here now?” Cassandra murmured, kissing the side of Everly’s head.
Everly let out a long, shaky breath. “He would tell me to keep my release soft when I shoot my bow. He would remind me to keep my heels down when I ride. That I’m too thin and I need to eat more.” Her voice was muffled against Cassandra’s chest. "That all we have in this world is our name and our word. And to comb my damn hair, for Maker’s sake.”
Cassandra chuckled. Amazing how well a parent knew their child. “That all sounds like good advice.”
“Yes, it is.” A pause. Cassandra felt the beginnings of Everly’s smile, even as her face remained tucked away. “He’d also tell me to watch out for tall, dangerous brunettes founding heretical organizations.”
Cassandra arched a brow as Everly raised her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening, but as Cassandra suspected, the smile had returned--lopsided and playful.
“Alas,” Cassandra said dryly. “If only he had been able to intervene.”
“I wouldn’t have listened anyway.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. She gently brushed her thumb across Everly’s cheek, wiping away the last of her tears. Everly caught Cassandra’s hand and turned to lightly kiss her palm. It was a simple gesture, yet somehow almost painfully romantic. Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. Everly’s smile brightened even more, though Cassandra saw a hint of uncharacteristic shyness behind her eyes.
“Look! It’s snowing!”
Everly abruptly jumped back and spun around. She pointed. Cassandra looked out across Skyhold’s upper courtyard. Thick, heavy flakes were drifting through the sky, slowly covering the grounds in a dusting of white.
“Indeed.” Cassandra moved over to pull Everly into her once more, looping her arms around Everly’s waist and hugging her from behind. Everly made a small noise, one Cassandra had come to recognize as one she only made when particularly content. Cassandra rested her chin on Everly’s shoulder and sighed. There was still much to do, and there would no doubt be questions about Everly’s earlier outburst, but that could all wait for now. Together they watched the snow fall.
***
Cassandra had never been one for frivolities. Growing up, Uncle Vestalus held little interests outside of corpses, which also extended to his young wards. Although the necropolis she was raised in was elaborately furnished, most of the ornamentation were for the benefit of the dead, not the living. As a result it was dreadfully dull, with little to engage a young girl and her brother. So she had learned to make do with what she entertainment she did have--her studies, books, training with Anthony. When she joined the Seekers and decided her life would be one of service, there was hardly room for anything else. She quickly found that the sparse, austere existence suited her, and she began to pride herself on the outright shunning of everything but the most basic comforts. Being surrounded by the excessiveness of Orlesians also made that decision much easier.
But, Maker help her, did she ever love a bath.
She let out a contented sigh and leaned back against the warm marble. The tub itself was massive and could comfortably accommodate two people--three if the parties were being creative--and she could easily stretch out to her full height. Cassandra had noticed the tub immediately the first night she had spent in the Inquisitor’s quarters. When she had mentioned it to Everly the next morning, al she had received was a broad smile in response.
The salts and fragrances and crafted soaps appeared soon after, arriving in droves from Val Royeaux. There were now all manner of products to choose from, arranged neatly on a bookshelf near the tub. Everly kept adding to the collection, too, even though there was no way Cassandra would have the time to use them all. Cassandra wondered when someone would realize how much of the Inquisition’s coin was being spent on such silly things. Certainly it had to be excessive enough for Josephine to notice. Everly seemed unconcerned about both the cost and whatever rumors were springing up around her perceived bathing habits. All she appeared interested in was indulging Cassandra as much as possible, even though allowing her unfettered access to the Inquisitor’s private bath would cause other, more problematic rumors to spread.
As a matter of fact, Everly spent a great deal of time indulging her. The bath, fresh-cut flowers on her pillow, overly dramatic poetry recitations--the gestures were becoming too numerous to count. It seemed impossible all that could be for her and her alone. Everly expected nothing in return, either. All it took was a laugh and a soft smile, and Everly’s entire face would brighten so earnestly Cassandra could hardly look at her.
In all her life she had never felt so cared for. It was wondrous and amazing and frightening all at once.
Cassandra sighed again, silently celebrating as the knots in her shoulders and back began to loosen. Winter had arrived, and along with it the increased tightness in her joints that always accompanied colder weather. The expedition to re-take Suledin Keep in the Emprise du Lion hadn’t helped matters. The cold never really bothered her--it was a nuisance more than anything, especially when the frost made her sword stick in its sheath--but the freezing wind and snow had been brutal. She had actually been relieved to face the heat generated when Ishmael shifted into a rage demon.
The journey back to Skyhold had been just as taxing. Everly hated the cold, and it hadn’t taken long for the chill to settle into her bones. She had huddled under two massive scarves wrapped around her head and neck, hands shivering as she clenched at the reins of her mount. Soon it was obvious that the weather had also frayed her temper. On the second day, Sera and Iron Bull had made it a game to list all the ways in which one could warm up in this weather, and instead of laughing or even joining in, Everly had whipped around in her saddle and snapped at them both. Sera had nearly fallen off her horse.
In their tent later that evening, Cassandra had put one of Sera’s ideas to good use. It had successfully warmed both Everly’s body and her mood. But while Cassandra never mentioned the outburst, Sera had eyed Everly warily the rest of the ride back to Skyhold.
Cassandra’s gaze drifted towards the half-open door, and just beyond that, the figure sitting at a desk near the fireplace. Everly had been working steadily since Cassandra arrived, and most likely had started well before then. Quill in hand, she frowned intently at the correspondence in front of her, head hunched over so far her nose nearly grazed the parchment. A smudge of ink was visible on her chin. Cassandra couldn’t help but smile; Everly always frowned deeply whenever she wrote, whether it was a formal report or her small journal. She also always managed to get ink all over herself.
The massive desk was piled high with crumpled parchments and wax-sealed letters yet to be opened. A pile of dense-looking volumes were neatly stacked on the floor. Occasionally, Everly would pause and reach down to pull one of the books onto her lap with a sigh, flipping through pages so old and dried Cassandra could hear them crackling from across the room. When she found what she was looking for, Everly made a small noise of satisfaction, then went right back to her notes.
The routine occurred no less than four times, fatigue clearly building with each motion. Everly’s gloves were off, and the Anchor glowed gently as she worked. Cassandra watched as Everly’s fingers began twitching, almost by their own accord. Everly let out a hiss and clenched her fist rapidly, still focused on her work. Cassandra’s smile fell.
She pushed herself over to the other end of the tub, creating a gentle wake in the lavender-scented water. Folding her arms on the top of the edge, she rested her chin on top of her hands and tried to ignore the concern twisting in her stomach.
“The water is getting cold.” she called out, trying to inject a hint of playfulness in her tone. As much as she was capable of, anyway.
Everly didn’t look up. “I can have more brought up.”
Cassandra scowled. She tapped her index finger. “Are my attempts at romantic overtures truly that ineffective?”
“What?” Everly raised her head, blinking innocently.
“Get in here.”
“Oh.” Everly’s eyes widened, then she ducked her chin and blushed. She pushed back from the desk and bent down to untie her boots. Cassandra slid back to the opposite end of the tub, pushing the rest of her worry away. She instead watched as Everly stood and came around the desk, hunger now coiling within her. As they locked eyes, Everly grinned and slowly began undoing the top two buttons of her jacket. Cassandra raised her chin in a silent challenge, but had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.
Suddenly, Everly stopped. Her fingers grazed over the next button, grin widening dangerously. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, then she sat bolt upright and raised a finger in warning.
“Don’t you even--”
But it was too late.
With two quick strides Everly closed the distance between them. In one motion she planted a hand on the side of the tub and vaulted in, landing with a splash. Water surged over the edge in a giant wave, splattering over the floor and into Cassandra’s face.
“You fool!” Cassandra spat, wiping at her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Proving that your romantic overtures are very much appreciated.” Everly laughed; a rough, low sound from the back of her throat that Cassandra didn’t know she could make. Cassandra swallowed. Everly pressed into her, pushing her back against the tub. A gasp slipped passed Cassandra’s lips as her breasts brushed against the rough material of Everly’s jacket.
“There are...other ways of doing that.” Cassandra said hoarsely.
“And what would the Seeker prefer? Poetry, perhaps?” Everly gripped the lip of the tub with her left hand and pressed even closer, keeping Cassandra pinned. Even though Cassandra could easily push her away, she was too distracted by Everly’s thigh sliding between her legs. With her other hand, she caught Cassandra’s face and tipped her chin upwards slightly. Her gaze was soft, her breath warm against Cassandra’s cheek. She began to speak.
She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead;
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart thundered in her chest. Everly just grinned, as if she had planned this all along, in the same infuriating manner that never failed to both aggravate and charm her at once. And there was only one way to deal with it.
She gripped the front of Everly’s jacket with both hands and pulled her in. Their lips met. The kiss was slow and deep, but quickly intensified. Heat blossomed in Cassandra’s lower belly, turning into a distinct ache.
“Take this off.” Cassandra pulled back to snarl against Everly’s mouth. Hands shaking, eyes blown wide with desire, Everly fumbled at the buttons haplessly with slick fingers. Cassandra watched until she could no longer contain herself, finally grabbing Everly’s collar and ripping the jacket off. Buttons flew across the room. Everly yelped in surprise, but her grin immediately returned as she pulled the mangled garment over her head and tossed it onto the floor.
Skin finally touching, they pressed even closer, and Cassandra wrapped her arms tightly around Everly’s shoulders. Everly’s hand slid to the base of Cassandra’s neck, then clutched at her hair and tugged, pulling Cassandra’s head back. Everly dragged her mouth down Cassandra’s neck, grazing the tender skin with her teeth. Cassandra’s hips bucked. Everly’s grip loosened and her hand moved again, this time dipping into the water to brush against the inside of Cassandra’s thigh. Cassandra moaned again and arched her back, urging Everly to move higher.
“Inquisitor?”
Cassandra’s eyes snapped open and she swallowed a growl. Everly’s head fell forward in defeat, landing on Cassandra’s shoulder. She gasped for air, trembling in Cassandra’s arms. Josephine’s lilting, apologetic voice filtered into the room.
“Inquisitor? I’m sorry to disturb you, but I have just one item that needs your attention.”
“I swear Corypheus himself had better be in the kitchen.” Everly grumbled against Cassandra’s neck, then raised her head to bark over her shoulder at the half-open door. “In a moment!” When she turned back, the apology already on her lips, Cassandra reached out and cupped her cheek.
“It’s alright.” She swiped Everly's chin with her thumb, wiping away the smudge of ink. Then she pushed her away. “Go.”
Everly caught Cassandra’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
With that, Everly jumped out of the tub and stripped out of her soaked breeches. She reached for a nearby towel that was far too small to cover her properly, holding it in front of her and giving Cassandra a full view of her ass as she sauntered out of the room. Cassandra had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud as Josephine’s shocked yell echoed through the entire quarters. It was followed immediately by Everly demanding in an overly haughty voice that whatever the ambassador brought had better be good.
Cassandra leaned back, resting her head on the edge of the tub. She gazed up at the ceiling and sighed. Then she smiled.