Prince Maric walks in on Loghain and Rowan in a passionate exchange
and things quickly get heated between them.
Taking place after the events of The Stolen Throne proper, before the Epilogue of the book.

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Maric sat leaning back in his study, pondering some of the events of the latest months. The rebel army had made good progress, and the Orlesian forces were in disarray, now that he had eliminated the brains behind the usurper. It had been over a year since their victory that day. He wasn’t King yet, but he was close.
        Maric heard raised voices coming from down the hall. He stood and walked in their direction. He realised the voices came from Rowan’s room. He stopped by the door, listening.
        ‘I just hate what has become of us.’ Maric recognised Loghain’s voice.
        ‘It was your decision,’ Rowan spat back, trying to keep her voice hushed, though not very successfully. ‘Do you realise the sacrifices I’ve had to make just in the past year alone?’
        ‘And you think I haven’t made any sacrifices?’ Loghain growled. ‘Everything I have done. . .have ever done. . .’
        They lowered their voices as Rowan retorted something to Loghain but Maric couldn’t make out her words.
        ‘I did what was necessary!’ Loghain shouted in exasperation.
        Maric took the opportunity of the raised voice to slowly open the door a crack and peer in discretely. His heart thumped fast in his chest as he realised he probably didn’t want to hear this exchange — he feared hearing it and yet couldn’t help but listen in.
        Rowan was wearing one of the gowns that had been gifted to her, from the people to their future Queen. She was beautiful in it, and Maric didn’t miss the way Loghain’s eyes darted across her features, even in the heat of their argument. Loghain, of course, was wearing his leathers. The Hero of the River Dane was still unaccustomed to his new armour and preferred to travel in his most trusted gear.
        Rowan and Loghain stared at each other for a beat, so Maric repositioned himself so he could see a bit better inside the room.
        ‘It’s too late for regrets now,’ said Rowan. She gave Loghain a stern look. ‘Why? Why have you come? Is it just to antagonise me? Is it—’
        ‘Because I care!’ Loghain was leaning forward, an angry expression upon his face.
        ‘And you think I don’t?’ Rowan stepped closer to Loghain. ‘I have always cared. Why do you think I. . .risked everything for you.’
        ‘I know.’ His voice was solemn. Loghain stepped back. ‘Rowan. . . Letting you go was the most difficult decision of my life, and I. . .’ His voice cracked.
        Maric could see Loghain’s face contort with inner torment, his eyes wet with silent tears.
        And then, Loghain placed an arm behind Rowan’s back and pulled her in and kissed her, fierce and intent. Rowan wrapped her arms around Loghain as they continued to kiss with passion.
        Maric felt a pang that ignited an angry fire within him, though he wasn’t sure which of them made him angrier in this instance.
        He slammed the door open as he walked in, his gaze intense and on them both. Loghain and Rowan quickly pulled apart. Rowan looked mortified, while Loghain’s stern gaze became inscrutable.
        ‘The old witch told me you would betray me,’ Maric said evenly, looking pointedly at Loghain. He motioned his head towards Rowan. ‘But with her. You might as well have killed me when you wanted to.’
        Loghain narrowed his gaze but remained otherwise impassive.
        ‘Maric, I. . .’ Rowan began. ‘You know how I feel about you, I just—’
        ‘And you!’ Maric snapped at her, his anger mounting. ‘My betrothed. Would you so readily renege your oath?’ He looked from one to the other. ‘Do you realise how much it hurts me to see you both together like this?’
        For the first time since Maric had entered the room, Loghain downcast his eyes.
        ‘Maric. . . You knew we had something before.’
        ‘Yes, and I assumed it had ended because Rowan and I—’ He stopped, seeing the hurt on Loghain’s face. For the first time since that night he’d killed Katriel and slept with Rowan, Loghain had shown emotion, his steely demeanour finally breaking. Maric felt another pang, this time more sorrowful, as he watched Loghain’s tears run down his cheeks.
        The other man closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘I’ll let the two of you sort this out,’ he breathed and began for the door.
        Maric stopped him with his arm. ‘You will do no such thing.’
        Loghain scowled, eyes still wet. ‘Clearly, you need some time to speak,’ he said, looking from Maric to Rowan.
        ‘And what will you do? Hope I’ll forget this ever happened and return when I’m not looking? I think not.’
        Moving swiftly, Maric took a step back and kicked the door shut before stepping forward again and drawing himself to his full height.
        ‘Now you’re being ridiculous, Maric,’ Loghain growled at him.
        ‘You don’t seem to understand that I am your King and I have given you an order! Will you defy me then?’
        Loghain got into Maric’s face. ‘Whatever torment you want as revenge, let’s have it then.’
        Maric and Loghain stared at each other in contempt, their faces inches apart. Maric remembered the look Loghain had given him when he wanted to kill him back when they had first met. The look Loghain gave him today was similar, but there was something more, something. . .more heated, more emotional.
        ‘Maric, please,’ Rowan whispered.
        Maric took a step back, studying them, his jaw set. ‘You have both betrayed me. How did it come to this? How did we get here, with such. . .chasms between us?’ His tone became more desperate than he had intended.
        ‘We did that which was necessary. . .for Ferelden,’ Loghain said evenly.
        ‘For Ferelden?’ Maric’s brows shot up, he was incredulous.
        ‘Maric, ever since. . .’ began Rowan. ‘You knew. . .we thought. . .’ Tears speckled her eyes. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.
        Loghain set his jaw, looking pained, but he did not avert his eyes.
        ‘But you love him too,’ Maric growled angrily.
        ‘Is your pride so hurt that I tasted her love first?’ Loghain’s voice was filled with anger and hurt, and it sent a surge of emotion through Maric’s body.
        ‘I always cared about you both,’ Rowan admitted.
        Maric’s expression softened. His emotions were sending his thoughts in all directions. The three of them had been so close once, they had become inseparable for a time. They laughed, they teased, they cried. Since his mother died, there had only ever been two people Maric loved strongly enough that he would do anything for, including give his life. And his heart ached for that feeling of closeness he had felt with them, that feeling he feared was now lost forever.
        ‘I miss us.’ Maric looked Rowan in the eyes, and then met Loghain’s gaze. ‘I miss the way we used to be, the three of us.’
        ‘It will never be the same, Maric,’ Loghain warned.
        ‘I know, but for one moment, just this night, can we just. . .forget Ferelden and be as we once were? Can’t we just. . .be the three of us?’
        In Loghain’s eyes, Maric saw the longing he himself felt for the friendship they once had, but when Loghain looked at Rowan, that longing was different, and Maric felt a pang of jealousy, unsure at whom it was directed. Rowan looked equally longingly at both of them. He knew despite the cold that had grown between them, they still loved each other.
        ‘You are the two people I care for the most in this world,’ Maric admitted. ‘We once shared a love, one that was different for each of us, different towards each of us, but one I miss, one I now need.’ Maric felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. ‘Please, Rowan, Loghain, just this night. Let’s forget everything that’s happened.’
        Rowan took a step towards him but stopped short. Loghain remained planted where he was, his gaze no longer able to meet Maric’s.
        ‘Do you not miss what we had?’ Maric asked.
        Rowan drew in a breath. ‘I. . . Yes.’
        ‘We can never again have what we had,’ Loghain said, his voice grave.
        ‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t have something new that is equally special.’ Maric heard the hope in his voice, and he saw in both their eyes that same hope he felt.
        There was a tug in his heart of desperation, a vulnerability he had only ever allowed them to see that surged through him as his sorrow, regret and anger rose together to become a sensation of passion tingling through his body, and suddenly, he knew what he wanted this night.
        ‘If the two of you are to share intimacy. . .’ He paused. Rowan’s eyes were pleading, Loghain’s blue eyes piercing. ‘I would rather you both saved your intimacy for me, rather than for each other.’

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