It's overwhelming and exhausting thus far, and they haven't even come to the feast meant to celebrate their union. From what Josephine has said, it's going to last hours, between the food and the dancing and Maker knows what else.

But at least they have a few minutes to breathe, a little time in the day where they don't have to be Commander of the Inquisitions Forces and Herald of Andraste. That solemn, still expression melts from her face when Cullen draws her near, and her arms snake up around his neck.

"Cassandra said it--that makes it official." She still can't quite believe her friend is Divine Victoria, even if she's starting to grow used to saying it among others. Betrys kisses him again, another gentle little thing, just taking comfort in the fact that she can be herself for a moment or two. "And you, my darling, are my husband."