"Eamon, I'm not sure how many times or ways you wish to hear this. We are thankful for your help, but it's been a year since the blight ended. Your presence is no longer required at court. Go back to Redcliffe."
I pause outside the door to my wife's study. I came to see if I could steal her away from her Warden Commander duties for the afternoon, but am finding the conversation going on within too interesting to interrupt.
"Does Alistair know about this?" comes the anxious voice of Arl Eamon.
"Of course he knows. That's his signature on the letter you're waving in my face. In case you haven't noticed, Alistair has become quite the capable king. He no longer requires quite the same amount of, shall we say, supervision that you seem to force on him."
"A king whose throne would not have been won if not for me! Who are you to say such things?"
"I am Angel Theirin, Queen of Ferelden. Before