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isabela and zevran somehow securing invitations to the ball at halamshiral, sneaking in under false and extravagant aliases
dancing together in elaborate masks, isabela’s gown sparkling and zevran’s dress uniform sharp and pressed and very well-fitted
they drop bits and pieces of information in the inquisitor’s path, helping as much as they can (but without getting involved, because dear maker they are through with saving the world)
and once the night has worn on a bit, they snag some extra cakes and expensive-looking decorations and poof — they’re gone