To onlookers, the Inquisition's rise to power appeared abrupt but inevitable, sanctified by Blessed Andraste herself. The Inquisition's taskmasters worked hard to project this impression of grand victory after grand victory, but every organization is founded on smaller triumphs. A crucial member of its council was Lady Josephine Montilyet of Antiva, ambassador of the Inquisition.
The Montilyets are an old Antivan family, notable for being one of the major naval powers in Antiva as late as the start of the Blessed Age. At their height, if one includes their close relations, their fleet of trading vessels numbered in the hundreds. House Montilyet also had a large contingent of formidable warships ostensibly at the disposal of the royal navy. In reality, they were mostly put to use guarding their merchant vessels in long voyages around the coast. Their heavy guarded cargo was the target of many a daring Rivaini pirate who wanted to make a name and a profit in one fell swoop. The noble Antivan house became entangled in so many rivalries and vendettas against pirates tha their relationships became as complex and bitter as those at any Orlesian soirée. Some Rivaini pirate fleets hold grudges against the family to this day.
The Montilyets always had strong ties with Orlais. Roughly half the family lived in the capital and frequently intermarried with Orlesian nobility. The loss of their trading fleets started over a question of marriage and fidelity in Val Royeaux. The names of the lovers in question have been lost to history, but their indiscretions led to vicious infighting, shocking betrayals, public duels, and eventually exile from Orlais for House Montilyet. Their Orlesian trading contracts were no longer considered valid by the Crown. One year later, the sky itself further crippled their fortunes: the Montilyets sent out an unusually late number of their trading ships with cargo bound for the Imperium. A few days out to sea, a thunderous maelstrom swept across the Amaranthine just as the vessels came around a rocky coastline. The fury of the weather caught even the most seasoned captains off-guard, and lasted a full three days. By the time it let up, the majority of the Montilyets' ships had been dashed across the rocks or sunk by the waves. The few remaining ships limped back to port. Superstitious sailors refused the Montilyets' employ, funds could not repair the ships to repay their debts, and the Montilyets' once-splendid fleet became merely a legend.
The Montilyets survived, albeit on greatly reduced terms. Today they are a modest trading house, known mostly for their wines and the grandeur of their family estate in Antiva City. When Lady Josephine Montilyet became her family's heir apparent, it was evident even at a young age that she had greater ambitions than overseeing the family vineyards. Before she worked for the Inquisition, Josephine was chief ambassador from Antiva to Orlais. Her tenure there was most successful. It is not unusual for a royal diplomat to be charming, courteous, and well spoken. It is for them to be well liked. Lady Josephine had a reputation for being both fair and honorable in negotiations, which meant she was often asked to arbitrate the most bitter of disputes. It gave her position an air of trustworthiness and, even rarer, neutrality, despite her Antivan allegiances. "Lady Josephine has stridently and painstakingly opposed my latest suggestions to the court," a fellow diplomat once wrote. "But it is refreshing to feel it is nothing personal." Her pleasant grace did not hurt her social standing, and it was expected she would retain her position for many years to come. Her decision to step down as Antiva's ambassador to Orlais, therefore, greatly surprised both courts.
When Jospehine joined the Inquisition, she was seemingly abandoning a web of potential trading connections crucial to the livelihood of her estates. She told few colleagues and acquaintances where she was heading, but many among the nobility suspected some great opportunity must have presented itself. "My dear, you spout nonsense," an Antivan merchant prince wrote to his cousin, an Orlesian countess who suspected Josephine's departure was part of a ploy by rivals to undermine her position at court. "Sweet Lady Josephine retains all her wits. It's no secret that House Montilyet, despite its good reputation, is in gentle decline. The ambassador is risking a leap because she's spotted a fine reward. The question now is whether she topples on the landing."
There was no toppling. The transition from court ambassador to Inquisition diplomat went smoothly enough in the public sphere. In private, Josephine was uneasy. "I cannot help thinking, one way or another, Sister Nightingale has talked me into the last position I will ever hold," she wrote to an old friend in Rialto, three weeks before departing for Haven. "Her arguments are sound, yes, but there is such an air of finality when she talks about restoring the Inquisition. I feel as if I am abandoning the estate as well. Mother pretends to be holding up, but I can tell she is disappointed I am moving even farther away from her. During dinner, Father looks at me with sad eyes. Antoine is fretting over who will take on some of my duties. Yvette is pouting. Still, Leliana would not ask me to move so many miles without good reason, and the mage rebellions are increasing grievances on both sides. Perhaps the Divine's conclave will end the worst of the violence."
It, of course, did not. In the aftermath of the attack, after the dead had been tallied, monarchs across Thedas demanded answers even as the Chantry's surviving clerics fought for control in the vacuum created by Justinia's death. The Inquisiton might have been crushed amid the politics if not for the swift interference and negotiations of its ambassador. Josephine's mere presence brought the fledging organization enough legitimacy to make the circling nobles pause. The following months saw a rise in the Inquisiton's reach and its social standing. When the Inquisitor won renown, Josephine made sure it was spun into favors, alliances, and tangible prestige that slowly earned the respect, and sometimes even admiration, of the powers in Thedas.