Ancient Wanderers - The Witcher

Chapter 13: A Question of Price

*Unedited

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"𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓮, Nessa," Calanthe waves a hand up to the two empty chairs at the long table, "Take a seat by my side while I change. Bring your Witcher too."

Geralt grumbles but approaches me, "Hm."

A servant escorts us to our seats. Mine is directly next to the dark wooden throne with blue and gold upholstery. Across the empty space, I nod politely to Princess Pavetta. Her golden-blonde hair is braided to the side, falling on Cintra colors. She sends me a smile but I can tell that she would rather be anywhere else but here.

The Witcher sits to my right. He leans into me, "Is there anyone you do not know?"

I immediately respond, "Of course. What a ridiculous question."

"A queen?"

"Technically, I knew her father," I counter. "The girl I once met was merely a cub. We are dealing with a Lioness, one I am not well acquainted with."

He hums, "You seem close."

"Not all is what it seems, Geralt. You of all people should know that. Her introduction of me was an act, just like everything else that has and will take place tonight," I finally meet his golden gaze and lean in so that he can only faintly hear my whisper, "Be wary of her. More so, watch your words. Political intrigue can be the most deadly of monsters."

As though Destiny is proving me right, Calanthe - dressed in a beautiful blue gown with metallic threadwork of flowers and golden beads - returns. The confident tilt of her head shows off a crown fit for a queen. When she sits, she places her hands across her waist where the corset must be tight, "Damn this cursed thing. I'd as soon see this night out in armor."

Geralt and I growl at the same time, "As would I."

"Indeed," Calanthe replies in her posh accent. "I know how you're here, Nessa. But tell me, how does a Witcher find himself at my daughter's wedding feast dressed like a..."

She trails off with a laugh.

The White Wolf has gone emotionless, but I can tell that he is not pleased to be here in the slightest, "I'm protecting the bard from vengeful royal cuckolds."

I smile, "He's our friend, you see? Always finds trouble, that one."

The queen turns to me, "However did you befriend a Witcher and a bard?"

"How did I befriend a king and a queen?" I chuckle lightheartedly. "My eternal need to aid those who require it has forced me to connect with the most unlikely of people."

The Rivian quirks his lips, "She stalked me after we slayed a monster together. The bard did the very same."

I gasp and elbow him with enough power to hear a satisfying puff of air.

"Hm!" Calanthe picks up something to eat. When she's done, she looks around and sighs, "Idiots, the lot of them. Still, I'm glad of your company, which could prove handy."

A sensation swirls in the pit of my stomach. My eyes tingle but I force the flood of magic back down. Too many people for me to safely allow a vision. But the feeling of wrongness lingers.

The queen lowers her voice, "I have no doubt blood will spill here tonight."

We can agree on that.

The White Wolf's reply is dangerously close to being considered rude, "Ah, save the good queen's breath. We're not for hire as bodyguards."