Leliana rests standing against the pool, her dark eyes studying the curtains and the arch of the flowers that she has planted at the edge of the party. She can see others slowly beginning to trickle in, feeling them as they pass through the portal and turn into someone else by the edges of the lake. She takes care to mask their identity from her though—not wanting to spoil the fun and not wanting to invade on their privacy.
So she has no idea that the man who approaches is one of her own army.
Her face is serene as she watches him approach, appreciating the handiwork of her magic in the intricate bronze markings of him. A corner of her mouth lifts into a smile, genial in its delicacy and she dips her head in a greeting. “It is quite a sight,” she answers, her voice—usually so calm and deep, the sound of running water—a nearly breathy whisper, feminine on the edges as it uncurls and blossoms on her tongue.
“I have not been here as often as I should have,” she admits, feeling that pang that serves as a reminder of just how unprepared she is to serve as Queen, “but it does not take long to be enraptured by it.”
Her eyes move from the flowers and the shadows back to the stallion, her gaze resting on his face.
“So, stranger, what do you hope to find in this party?”
After all, everyone who came here tonight for their own reasons.
She herself was just not ready to admit to her own. Not yet.
@[Jakub]