His name was Raphael Trevelyan, a fact that made Hannah incredibly irritable and prone to grumbling. She hated pretty noblemen on the best of days, so the fact that the entire village would not shut up about him made the past week particularly annoying.
“He’s so dreamy,” Flissa sighed with a slightly far-off look as she took away the last of the dishes from the midday rush. “And so tall… And have you seen him smile? So handsome.”
Hannah tried really hard not to roll her eyes so she focused on her cup of mead instead. This wasn’t the first time, nor the first woman, to wax poetic about the newly-arrived cousin to the Herald. There were plenty of rumors flying about, but outside of the Chantry the most popular topic of conversation was the man’s relationship status. Or lack thereof.
“I’m sure he enjoys using that smile to seduce many women willing to spread their legs for him,” she said with a shrug.
Flissa grimaced. “You don’t have to be so crude.”
“I’m surrounded by assholes all day. I call it self-defense,” Hannah ground out. She leaned in and lowered her voice, “You want to know what that swine Wardell said to me today? He had the gall to tell me that I got an Inquisition post because I did sexual favors for the Commander. On my knees, to be specific.”
Flissa gasped. “He did not!”
“And when I loudly protested, he pretended like I’m an emotional female who’s being terribly dramatic. I had to leave before I jabbed him with my caliper.”
Master Wardell had become a pain in Hannah’s ass the moment he got hired by the Inquisition to help with the workload and lend his reputation to the engineers already working there. Unfortunately, he was an older man who didn’t see women as equally capable creatures and his continuous harassment made working a real chore some days. On those days, Hannah started drinking early.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Flissa said sympathetically. “More mead?”
“Yes, please.”
The alcohol hummed pleasantly in her veins, though it did little to improve her mood. Flissa was not the greatest conversationalist available, but none of the usual crew was free to keep her company. Perhaps once she finished her cup, she could go bother Krem or Rylen.
The door on the other side of the tavern opened and in came Raphael Trevelyan, caring a dead ram on his shoulders while a large bunch of herbs swung from his belt at the hip. Flissa immediately lit up and turned to attend to him, ignoring Hannah and her quiet groan of annoyance.
“Raphael!” she exclaimed. “How was the hunt?”
The tops of his ears colored a little, but the smile he gave Flissa was radiant. Suddenly Hannah understood why this man had become so popular with the ladies and vowed to herself not to fall for his charms. It would help if she could continue to avoid him, but her cup was nowhere near empty so she couldn’t leave just yet.
“I’m surprised how plentiful the game is in these parts,” he explained in his pleasantly raspy voice. “I had no trouble tracking or killing the ram. I can definitely continue providing you with meat, if you need it. I also found some rosemary and thyme to season your meals.”
“Thank you. You are Maker-sent,” Flissa said and pointed him towards the door behind the bar. “Just take it to the back room and leave it on the kitchen table. Me and my staff will take care of everything else.”
“Of course,” he replied.
Hannah tried her best not to stare after him, but he must have felt her eyes, because he turned in the door frame at the last second and immediately recognized her, his dark eyes brightening with a smile.
Shit.
As he vanished in the back room, Hannah felt panic settle in her stomach - she somehow knew he’d soon return. Ever since she had learned who he was, she did her best to avoid him, because she also knew she had a weakness for men like Raphael Trevelyan: attractive, attentive, exciting - and willing to move on at a drop of a hat. She could tell he was interested in her, so she had made sure to stay as far away as possible. Unfortunately, she was still trying to down a cup of mead when he returned to the main bar area and moved to lean against the counter next to her.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he intoned while wearing single most approachable expression ever invented. “I’ve been meaning to properly introduce myself. I’m Raphael.”
Hannah pondered the merits of ignoring the outstretched hand and just running away, but the sheer rudeness of such an act went against her upbringing. She grasped his hand and briefly shook it.
“Hannah,” she said with a nod. “I remember you. Last time we met, you were casually lounging on some potatoes.”
The brilliant blush that rapidly painted his face shocked Hannah into staring at him. She wasn’t used to men who blushed. The last time she saw a blushing man she accidentally overheard the Herald inquire about Commander Cullen’s potential vows of chastity, and that was months ago.
“Not my finest moment,” Raphael admitted. “That’s what I get for trying to avoid a stampede of unruly children.”
Hannah chuckled.
“Yeah, they can be a handful sometimes. But they’re good kids, if you properly direct their energy.”
“I’m sure they’re learning loads of fun things, with a teacher like yourself,” he said with a grin.
Hannah frowned. “A teacher?” she asked and then the thought clarified in her head. “Oh! No no no. Teaching children is not my responsibility; that’s Sister Hilda’s job. I occasionally babysit them when there’s nobody else available to make sure nothing horrible happens to them. It usually involves snowball fights and endless games of tag.”
It was his turn to frown. “Oh, I didn’t realize… Sorry! What do you do, then?”
“I’m a part of the engineering team. I design bridges, watchtowers, and the like.”
And the moment of truth had arrived. Hannah watched as Raphael’s brain computed the information she had given him, only to reach a conclusion she knew was coming. When the words finally came out of his mouth, it was almost a relief to hear them.
“I didn’t know women did engineering work.”
To his credit, at least he wasn’t belligerent towards her and didn’t immediately try to invalidate her existence the way Master Wardell usually did. Still, she lost any remaining desire to finish her cup of mead, so she hopped off her stool and gathered her things.
“And yet here I am, defying all expectation,” she bit out. “Pissing off men who feel like I don’t belong.”
He became defensive at once. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Sure you didn’t,” she deadpanned. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Flissa silently signalling her to stop talking, but Hannah had had enough for the day. Perhaps she shouldn’t have chugged all that mead this early in the day, but either way she looked at it, she was done with men and their shenanigans. “Sorry, I’m suddenly not in the mood for a casual conversation. Perhaps you should find Lady Montilyet - she’s much better at appealing to the whimsies of big lords like yourself.”
Raphael’s entire countenance shifted at once, a flash of hurt brightening his eyes before cold fury transformed his handsome features into an angry mask; he was no longer leaning or acting casual.
“I’m not a lord,” he bit out slowly. “Or a part of nobility. I’m simply a man and you’re being unfair to me.”
"Oh, but you are a lord,” she said. “The name 'Trevelyan' trails after you like a particularly bad fart, making it miserable for the rest of us. The Chantry already educated the entire village on how lovely your family is. You won’t fool me.”
She stopped, feeling dizzy. The mead had been stronger than she anticipated and it hit her harder than it should have. The entire situation was getting ridiculous anyway, and beyond saving, so she quickly swiped a hand over her face and turned to go.
“You know what? Forget it,” she said. “I’ll leave before I get in trouble for sassing a noble and you can go on and have yourself a fantastic rest of the day.”
If Raphael had anything else to say, it stayed firmly shut behind his clenched jaw as he glared at Hannah with intense anger. She briefly wondered if she should stay and rile him up into arguing more, but she promptly abandoned the thought. This just wasn’t her day. She left the tavern, hoping to get as far away from the man as she could.
Hannah was in the middle of calculating measurements for yet another Orlesian bridge when a knock at the door made her look up. Thankfully, it was just Krem.
“Hey,” he said in his raspy voice. “Boss wants to know if you’re coming to the tavern tonight.”
She shook her head as her face folded into a grumpy expression.
“Not today. I’m drowning in work,” she told him.
What she didn’t tell him was that she had to quietly correct every single design Master Wardell had done before she sent it out to field engineers. The man’s incompetence was devouring her free time and she hated him for it. The fact that he was considered to be charge only added to the mounting resentment.
“You’ve been drowning in work for the past three days,” Krem said with his characteristic drawl. “You need a break.”
As it stood, Krem was probably right, but the thought of going into the tavern again made Hannah twitch and scowl more.
“I don’t. I’m fine,” she told him, hoping it would stem any potential argument. It didn’t.
“You’ve been hiding and I’m here to pull you out of your hole,” Krem announced and stepped inside. “We can either do this the easy way or I can carry you out of here.”
Hannah stared at him in shock. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“Then you’re an asshole.”
Krem smirked. “But I’m your asshole - who cares about your well-being and is here to make sure you don’t kill yourself with work. Pack it up; we’re going drinking.”
Perhaps this would have been the perfect time to tell Krem what she thought of his forceful behavior, but Hannah found herself lacking enough fucks to give. She set aside her drafting pencil and rubbed at the temple.
“For the record, I still think you’re an asshole,” she told him.
He grinned, clearly sensing a victory. “And yet you put up with me on a regular basis.”
A small grin twitched Hannah’s mouth and she shook her head.
“My mistake, clearly.”
She rolled up all the schematics, packed up her tools, locked everything away, and left the room after Krem.
They walked in silence, enjoying the quiet serenity of the sunset painting Haven in a shock of purples, oranges, and everything in between. It was a gorgeous view and Hannah appreciated the fact that Krem had pulled her away from the desk to see it. Maybe the evening wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
A loud, angry shriek disrupted her peaceful contemplation.
“What the fuck?...” she said out loud and tried to find the source of noise.
After a very brief search, she found - much to her dismay - Raphael Trevelyan with a woman slung over his shoulder, who seemed to beat at his back with her fists.
“Put me down, you brute!” she exclaimed and Hannah recognized the Herald’s voice. “I can walk there myself!”
“You are exhausted!” he refuted her claims just as loudly, but still set her down on the ground. “You’re tripping over your feet!” He paused. “How about a piggyback ride?”
There were more words exchanged, but Hannah couldn’t hear them clearly enough. She turned to Krem, who look rather pleased with himself.
“What’s did I just watch?” she asked.
Krem shrugged and smirked. “Lily has been working herself to the bone and none of us have been able to force her to slow down. It looks like having her cousin around might actually do the trick.”
Before Hannah could make another comment, she heard a whoop of joy from the direction of the Trevelyans, and she watched as Raphael hoisted Lily onto his back and carried her down the path at a brisk pace. They were both grinning, faces so alike and yet so different, that it suddenly took Hannah back to her younger years, when she would wrangle her two younger brothers as they got up to mischief in Highever. The feeling of nostalgia and grief hit her harder than she anticipated, so she wasn’t prepared when Raphael’s eyes met her own.
The effect was immediate; instead of a bright smile that had made Hannah fuzzy around the edges, his expression turned sober as he turned to look the other direction. Lily, oblivious to the whole exchange, continued grinning while Raphael carried her off towards the tavern. The fact that he had reacted so negatively stung Hannah to the core and she felt annoyed she let it get to her so much. Unfortunately for her, Krem was an observant man.
“Well, that was curious,” he said casually. “Dare I ask why Raphael Trevelyan can’t look you in the eye?”
Hannah shrugged. “That’s his problem, I suppose.”
“Did you make it his problem?” he asked as they continued a much slower walk to the tavern.
She paused, not sure how to explain her semi-drunken tirade in a way that didn’t make her sound so… petty.
“I merely pointed out that I will not prostrate myself at his feet simply because his last name is ‘Trevelyan’,” she said. “You know how much I despise nobility and their ridiculous behavior.”
Krem gave her a look of utter confusion.
“Are we talking about the same Raphael Trevelyan?” he said incredulously. “That guy might be a little grumpy, but he’s a walking teddy bear and blushes at a drop of a hat. Besides, he’s not much of a noble.”
Hannah crossed her arms. “He’s a Trevelyan. How is he not a noble?”
“This is what you get for being cooped up in your office,” Krem retorted. “You don’t hear the newest gossip. Raphael isn’t a noble. He divested his title about eight years ago and he’s been on the run since then. Chief says that Ostwick was in an uproar for months after Raphael’s disappearance and caused the family a lot of grief. There’s some seriously bad blood there, but nobody knows in depth details.”
This was unexpected. “He might be lying,” she concluded.
“He’s not. Everything checks out,” Krem said pointedly, then paused. “What’s going on? You seem awfully bent on making him out to be a villain. Did he do something to you?”
“No, of course not,” she said, albeit a little too quickly. “I think... I think, I just don’t like his face. There’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way, alright?”
Krem gave her another one of those long, speculative glaces and Hannah felt her face heat under his scrutiny. She tried to will the blush away, but she wasn’t sure to what degree she succeeded.
“If you say so,” Krem said with a chuckle and let the topic rest.
Which left Hannah to think about the way she had verbally abused Raphael when he had approached her at the tavern several days back. If she hadn’t been so prejudiced - and so cranky and tipsy - maybe she would have let him explain things about himself and maybe they would have been friends by now. Instead, she did a thorough job of alienating the man and, judging by his current actions, there would be no reconciliation anytime soon.
