Try, Please Try For Me

Three Hours

Geralt and Eskel leave for Lettenhove three days later, at the crack of dawn.

Before they leave, Vesemir corners Geralt and reminds him of how to behave and what to do once they get to Lettenhove-- "Be as polite as you can be," the old witcher had told him, "at least while you're there. Try not to offend anyone and cause any political conflicts or declarations of war." Geralt assumed those things were obvious, but vesemir had made a point of telling him anyway.

"Avoid frightening your betrothed. Buy him a gift on your way there, something nice--" Geralt had been given a pouch of gold for that one. Though what he should buy for a Viscount he has no idea.

The trip will take two weeks total, with the wedding two days after that. Geralt had taken the past three days to mull over his thoughts about...everything, and begrudgingly concluded that he would accept his situation. But accepting the situation doesn't mean that he has to like it.

Lambert joins them for the trek down the mountain and the three part ways once they reach the main road, Lambert heading off to begin his walk on the path, while Eskel and Geralt continue on to Lettenhove.

Geralt feels a little uneasy once Lambert has gone. He won't miss the seemingly endless string of teasing that his brother has been assailing him with the past few days, but Lambert leaving makes it all feel a little more real.

They stop in a small village just near the base of the mountain where Vesemir had told them a follow up letter would be waiting for Geralt at the inn. Apparently the Earl had sent it there since the mountain pass was uncrossable before the thaw, and no courier would have braved the journey to a keep of witchers anyway.

The innkeeper gives him a strange look when Geralt comes in and asks for a letter sent from the Earl of Lettenhove, but Geralt brushes it off, and leaves as quickly as he can.

Chances are he's going to get a lot of strange looks in the coming days.

He and Eskel gather some supplies for their journey in town, but don't stick around long. People are always more wary of witchers in small towns, in a city they could blend in a little better, but in a village strangers stuck out like a sore thumb. Geralt waits until he and Eskel have left the village and put some road behind them before he opens the envelope.

Eskel is watching him out of the corner of his eye as he tears the red wax seal on the envelope. Inside is another letter written in elegant penmanship.

Geralt skims through the first part-- it's addressed to "the witcher" and he can't tell if it's meant to be a subtle insult on the Earl's part or not. It starts off with more political bullshit, lots of names and titles thrown about that Geralt can't be bothered to read or care about. But towards the end, the Earl has taken the liberty of providing some information on his soon to be husband.

Julian Pankratz de Lettenhove is a mild tempered man from a well bred family-- Geralt doesn't like the way they phrased that, makes his betrothed sound like a horse. Not that there was anything wrong with horses, he loved Roach to death. He gives her a small pat on the shoulder before reading the next line.

As is expected, Julian will remain reserved and obedient to your wishes-- alright, Geralt really doesn't like the way they phrased that either.

He frowns as he continues the paragraph. Each sentence seems a little more subtly insulting than the last. If Geralt didn't know any better, he'd say it sounds like they want Julian to be a prized cow that they're selling rather than, you know, a person.

"What's it say?" Eskel asks from beside him, noticing the now sour look Geralt is giving the piece of paper.

"It's about him." Geralt doesn't need to elaborate on who the him in question is. All of them had been trying to avoid mentioning Geralt's impending marriage as much as possible. Julian Pankratz de Lettenhove went from his name to the Viscount, to him in the span of one day.