#thewitcher103

[cavillarie]

😤🤨

[cavillarie]

Foltest was slim and had a pretty—too pretty—face. He was under forty, the witcher thought. The king was sitting on a dwarf-armchair carved from black wood, his legs stretched out toward the hearth, where two dogs were warming themselves. Next to him on a chest sat an older, powerfully built man with a beard. Behind the king stood another man, richly dressed and with a proud look on his face. A magnate. “A witcher from Rivia,” said the king after the moment’s silence which fell after Velerad’s introduction.   “Yes, your Majesty.” Geralt lowered his head. “What made your hair so gray? Magic? I can see that you are not old. That was a joke. Say nothing. You’ve had a fair amount of experience, I dare presume?”   “Yes, your Majesty.”   “I would love to hear about it.”  Geralt bowed even lower. “Your Majesty, you know our code of practice forbids us to speak of our work.”   “A convenient code, witcher, very convenient. But tell me, have you had anything to do with spriggans?”  “Yes.”  “Vampires, leshys?”  “Those too.”   Foltest hesitated. “Strigas?”   Geralt raised his head, looking the king in the eyes. “Yes.”   Foltest turned his eyes away. “Velerad!”   “Yes, Gracious Majesty?”   “Have you given him the details?”   “Yes, your Gracious Majesty. He says the spell cast on the princess can be reversed.”  “I have known that for a long time. How, witcher? Oh, of course, I forgot. Your code of practice. All right. I will make one small comment. Several witchers have been here already. Velerad, you have told him? Good. So I know that your speciality is to kill, rather than to reverse spells. This isn’t an option. If one hair falls from my daughter’s head, your head will be on the block. That is all. Ostrit, Lord Segelen, stay and give him all the information he requires. Witchers always ask a lot of questions. Feed him and let him stay in the palace. He is not to drift from tavern to tavern.”