To Heal A Lonely Heart

Lies, Secrets And Curses

It wasn't long before we arrived. Six years had done much to that place. The formally regal palace – or how I imagined it to be – was seemingly falling apart. Tiles of the roof were missing, the framework close to collapsing. The only thing that said 'this is a royal palace' was the size of the building and the fact that guards were still standing in front of the gates, blocking our way in. We quickly hid in the moat, against a wall close to the castle bridge.

The guards were terrified of the place, flinching at every sudden sound. They were eager for their shift to end.

"I could cast a spell, distract them, and we can go in," I suggested, but my husband decided it would be better to watch at first. We weren't alone for long though. I heard her steps from about half a mile away.

"You were told to leave Temeria," she spoke up as she was within hearing range.

We both turned towards the young sorceress.

"But come on. These views," Geralt said in his usual grumbling voice.

"Are you going to kill her?" Triss inquired.

Geralt turned a little more, still having to look over his shoulder to see the sorceress. "I don't want the miners' coin," he grumbled, almost angrily.

"Or mine, apparently," Triss retorted. "What is this girl to you? Why do you care?"

I'd say it's guilt. He still wakes up at night, whispering the name of the princess he couldn't save: Renfri. He had her broach attached to his sword. She had meant something to him. He barely talked about what had happened back then; I only knew what witnesses had seen. Every time I tried questioning him about Renfri – or Blaviken – he'd go quiet and distant, pain still in his eyes. I knew better than to push him to talk to me; one day, I knew, he'd be ready and tell me.

After a moment of silence, Geralt spoke, "You first. I saw how Foltest and his boy spoke to you. Why help those who won't listen?"

Triss didn't answer his question. Instead, she eyed the bridge, the guards still standing there, and sighed. "I'm sure someone as legendary as you has already figured several ways to get past Segelin's guards."

The witcher grunted, inspected the ground between him and me, picked up a rock as big as a fist and held it out to the sorceress, before hurling it onto the bridge behind the guards. It landed with a loud thud that reverberated in the gate. The guards jumped, and ran away, terrified that it might have been the cursed princess.

I chuckled and shook my head at how simple it had been. And I had suggested to cast a spell! But the closer we got to the gates, the more wary I grew. Death lay upon this castle like the shadow of night that would fall soon. Many had died in this palace, and a large part at the hands – or claws – of the striga.

The hallways were littered with bones, not even full skeletons – she must rip her victims apart. Triss led the way, the witcher and I following close behind. From time to time, Geralt rattled on the doors, seeing if they could be opened, they didn't budge.

"Temeria reeks of secrets. I could sense them," the sorceress voiced what I had been thinking ever since we had come close to Vizima. "Just like I could these bodies before we entered. I imagine you sensed them too."

Geralt didn't say anything, didn't display any reaction, but I nodded at the sorceress, humming in agreement.

She stopped in front of a large painting of two children, the prince – now king – and the princess – the striga's mother, while Geralt, again, rattled a door, finding it barred closed.