Chapter Four
A Fine Shindig

Like vampires, the rich and powerful came out at night. Especially when there was a ball to attend. The elite members of Toussaint's high society were all invited, and most were happy to attend. The Duchess threw marvelous parties, and there were few who would refuse such an invitation.

Geralt of Rivia would normally count himself among those few. But he was doing this for Ciri, and that meant that what he wanted didn't matter. Besides, he'd bought that gown for Yennefer for just such an occasion, after the sorceress constantly pestered him about attending the numerous parties, balls, and soirees that always seemed to be happening. Too bad Regis wasn't around anymore. He'd trade this for drinks in a cemetery in a heartbeat.

The pomp on display outmatched the banquet on Thanedd by several orders of magnitude. At the very least, the people attending this event understood modesty, which had put Yennefer a bit more at ease. Still, Geralt had learned over the years that the sorceress actually enjoyed frightening off those she saw as a threat to her claim on him. It was only recently that he stopped putting that to the test.

She had picked out a black doublet for him with red accents and an extremely intricate pattern. It was even fancier than the one he'd worn to the reward ceremony, the last official function he'd attended in Beauclair. What surprised him most was how comfortable the whole outfit was. It didn't itch or restrict his movement at all. He'd definitely be keeping it.

The gown he'd gotten for her left both shoulders bare, while the dress itself went almost to her neck, showing the slightest hint of her collarbone. Yennefer had never made a habit of baring much skin in all the time he'd known her, a privilege she bestowed only on a few and only in private. Still, it wasn't modesty that led her to choose such a style of dress. The more she covered up, the more he found himself thinking of what lay underneath.

They were waiting in line for their names to be announced before they stepped into the ball proper. Geralt paid no attention to the people in front of them, focusing entirely on Yennefer.

"Are you doing alright?" she asked, deigning to show some concern for his badly concealed discomfort.

"I'm just glad there's not a ghost possessing me."

"Why would you be concerned about that?"

"When I was the one serving Gaunter O'Dimm, I had to show Olgierd von Everec's brother Vlodomir the best night of his life. The problem was, Vlodomir was dead, and had been for years. It just so happened that Shani had invited me to a wedding as her date."

"Shani? That little string bean from Oxenfurt Academy?"

"Yeah. I'd run into her while working the contract Olgierd gave me to eliminate a monster in the sewers. At any rate, I visited the von Everec family crypt, performed a blood summoning, and gave Vlodomir temporary control of my body in order to fulfill the wish."

"A blood summoning? Where'd you get his blood if he'd been dead that long?"

"Somehow, Gaunter O'Dimm had it. Turns out you only need the blood of someone related to the summoned."

"I see. How did the whole thing turn out?"

"He spent the whole night hitting on Shani, mostly. He tried to keep possessing me after he hit the deadline, but Gaunter O'Dimm sent him back to his crypt. The screams he made still give me nightmares."

Yennefer smiled. "You get involved in the most ridiculous adventures when I'm not around."

"Anyway, I'm glad tonight will be mostly normal. Even if it at least looks straight out of a fairy tale."

"General Morvran Voorhis and Baroness Maria Louisa La Valette!"

"Voorhis? What's the general of the Alba Division doing here?"

"And with the Baroness, no less," added Yennefer. "I suppose being part of the Guild of Merchants does grant one an invitation to these sorts of things."

"He was getting pretty friendly with the Baroness when I met them in Novigrad," said Geralt. "Guess he's given up on marrying Ciri."

"Death does tend to dampen one's prospects."

"I'm surprised he's in Toussaint at all," said Geralt. "Considering I overheard his name being spoken when Stefan Skellen, Joachim de Wett and the others plotted a coup the last time I stayed in Toussaint."

Yennefer raised an eyebrow. "You just happened to overhear a plot to overthrow the Emperor? While doing what?"

"A contract. It's also how I found out where Vilgefortz was holding you."

"And you believe that to be an utter coincidence?"

He shook his head. "No. But it wouldn't be my first run-in with Destiny."

"Rosa and Edna var Attre!"

"Huh, guess their parents let them out of Novigrad too. Better hope Rosa doesn't get her hands on a sword."

"Indeed. That might threaten to add liveliness to this whole affair."

"I thought you liked parties."

"I do, but they're so much more entertaining when a fight breaks out. That's one thing the other nations should copy from Skellige." She paused and put a finger to her chin, then looked up at him. "How did you know about Rosa's fencing obsession?"

"I gave her a couple lessons in Novigrad."

Yennefer raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "Oh did you?"

"They really were just fencing lessons," he insisted. "I was tricked into it. I was trying to track down Dandelion at the time. Her name was in his journal as one of the women he was wooing."

"Now it makes sense."

"Nothing even happened between them. Edna wrote a love letter to Dandelion and signed Rosa's name, then sat back and watched her prank play out."

"Twins."

"Lady Vivienne de Tabris and Baron Palmerin de Launfal!"

"Uh oh. Guillaume's not gonna be happy she showed up with his uncle."

"What do you mean?"

"Guillaume de Launfal is madly in love with Vivienne," he explained. "He had me enter the tournament to get up close to her because he believed she was cursed. Thing is, he was right. Vivienne had been cursed before she was born to slowly transform into an oriole. I managed to break the curse by transferring it to an unhatched oriole chick, and she was grateful to Guillaume for getting me to lift the curse, but things didn't work out the way he wanted them to."

"You mean the part where she was supposed to fall into his arms and shower him with love just because he hired someone else entirely to save her? How on earth did he imagine that working?"

"That's the downside of pretending you live in a fairy tale. Real life never ends the way you want it to."

"Sir Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg!"

They moved forward into the palace ballroom, a tremendous, majestic chamber that once more showed off the genius of Aen Seidhe architecture. White marble and gold leafing was surrounded by ornate banners detailing various pieces of heraldry all united under the common crest of Toussaint. On all sides were massive doors with large glass panes which opened to various balconies. It was such a dazzling sight that one could easily mistake it for a dream.

"Geralt of Rivia!" Morvran Voorhis greeted enthusiastically as he and the Baroness made their way over to the couple. "And Yennefer of Vengerberg. So lovely to see you both."

"Good to see you too, Voorhis," he replied, inclining his head slightly. "Enjoying yourself now that the war's over?"

"Am I ever! They say there's profit to be made in wartime, but that goes doubly so for the peace that immediately follows. There's no shortage of people who need to replace what they lost during the conflict, which means plenty of profits for someone with my business connections. I try not to take too much advantage."

"How noble of you," Yennefer said with false charm. She turned to the Baroness. "You've been spending time together?"

Maria Louisa La Valette smiled, displaying an equally forced politeness. "Indeed. Morvran has been taking me on a tour of the various territories of Nilfgaard. They say he has a strong chance of becoming the next emperor."

"Riding that train to the top, I see."

"I'll have you know that I greatly admire him," she insisted, rubbing her hand along the general's sleeve. "He's an exquisitely charming man who knows how to treat a lady."

"Yes, shower her in gold and show her off like a prize parrot, and she'll fawn all over you."

Geralt smirked. "I've been doing it all wrong this whole time, then."

"Indeed you have, dear. I say all this in jest, of course," she lied. "You two look marvelous together."

"You are witty as ever," said Voorhis, clearly unbothered by the display even as the Baroness' face was busy inventing new shades of red. "But we must meet the other guests. Geralt, I hope I will see you at the horse races soon. I'm eager to see how this year's tourney victor does on the track."

He nodded. "Looking forward to it."

"We should continue to mingle," Yennefer suggested once they were alone again. "At least enjoy ourselves. Our two guests of honor will be announced once all the normal guests filter in, after the Duchess has made her entrance. The good news is, none of the people in this room have ever seen Ciri in person, so we should be able to get through tonight without them recognizing her."

"Philippa Eilhart and Triss Merigold!"

"Shit."

Triss looked around the ballroom in wonder. She'd attended many balls, bashes, soirees and banquets before, but this made all of them look like a drunken hoedown in the woods by comparison. She thought she knew riches and splendor in the North, but it was clear now that she had been sorely mistaken. This was what wealth and extravagance really looked like.

It wasn't wasteful, however. Every element served a clear and definite purpose, from the various wines carried by an army of servants to seemingly endless tables of the finest hors d'oeuvres, the performers scattered throughout the crowd and the band playing on a raised platform, it all fit together like a puzzle.

She had let her fiery red hair down for the evening, releasing it from the twin bons she normally kept tied in the back. She hadn't worn her hair like this in years. Not since she stayed at a place that was the furthest north she had ever been. She wore a forest green dress with an elaborate gold pattern woven into it rather than simply printed on top. The dress was extremely low cut and strapless, held in place by an elastic band and, if that failed, a spell. It was nowhere close to modest, but that was the point. She wanted people to stare.

It cost a small fortune, but she had that kind of money now. Serving as advisor to King Tankred Thyssen, ruler of Kovir and Poviss, had earned her a tidy pile of coin in a very short amount of time.

The woman next to her wore her hair in long pigtails as usual, with a piece of ornate cloth over her eyes and an even more lavishly expensive dress with well defined décolletage. Years ago, no one would have expected Philippa Eilhart, the Jewel of Tretogor, to be gracing a ballroom in Toussaint in the name of Nilfgaard, but then no one had predicted Radovid V and his thankfully short reign of terror, which Philippa had put an end to personally.

She wasn't entirely sure why Philippa had called her via megascope and invited her here, but it involved the Lodge, and Triss wasn't one to miss occasions like this. Besides, this wasn't the first time in recent memory that they'd mixed business with pleasure.

Their names were announced and they moved into the space, silent the whole way. They said their greetings to various guests, but Triss was more interested in simply soaking in the experience. Toussaint was a land where the wildest of dreams could come true, a place right out of a fairy tale. Fringilla Vigo had told her that, and she hadn't been exaggerating. If anything, she'd undersold the place.

There was one other thing she'd heard about Toussaint, but she wasn't expecting to deal with it tonight. After all, why would he be here?

Reality answered her question as they moved further into the room, and she saw hair white as milk, alongside hair dark as raven's feathers. Her heart skipped a beat as the pair walked towards them.

"Geralt? Yennefer? What are you doing here?"

Yennefer of Vengerberg smiled widely. "I could very well ask you the same thing. We helped put it together, actually. Geralt is acquainted with the Duchess."

"Oh really?"

He nodded. "Came through Toussaint a few years back. Just recently I was contracted to kill a monster that had been murdering some of her knights. Turned out to be a higher vampire."

"She gave Geralt a vineyard for his efforts," the raven-haired sorceress finished. "It's a lovely place, you should drop by sometime."

"I just might."

"We were invited as well," said Philippa. "Formally, an invitation must be sent to the Royal Court, but the Emperor never attends a ball that he didn't organize himself. I am here to represent his interests."

"And Triss?"

"Is my date."

Yennefer looked over the two of them, her violet eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Back together, then? That worked out so well last time."

"Spare us your childish ribbing," Philippa replied. "I don't ask you to justify your attraction to this one."

"As I recall, the last party where you two interacted you told Geralt of how you could induce pleasure without needing all the sticky bits leading up to it."

She smirked. "Oh, please. Like everybody who attended the banquet on Thanedd I was trying to get him on my side, or at least to garner information. That's not necessary here."

"Glad to hear it. Although I would love to know if Triss can verify your ability to skip the foreplay."

"That's enough, Yennefer," Triss said harshly. "Philippa and I are happy together. Back off."

"As you wish."

What was her problem? Yennefer had a reputation for being a sarcastic, arrogant pain in the arse at parties, but her tone seemed more vindictive than usual. The actual words could be construed as light teasing if she wasn't looking at Triss like she planned to put her through a wall. It was a look she'd only seen from her once before, but that time it was over a teleprojection. In person she looked far more menacing.

Hadn't they put their grievances to rest already? The Lodge had come together to save Ciri from the Wild Hunt, and they'd all parted, she had thought, as friends. Yennefer was the one who walked off into the sunset with Geralt, leaving the rest of them to deal with cleaning up the aftermath of the war. If anything, Triss should be the one angry with her.

But they'd been down that road before. Whatever the cause was for Yennefer's current animosity, they would resolve it in time. After all, they were friends.

Right?

'Triss.'

She looked up at the dark-haired sorceress, who met her eyes and maintained their telepathic connection.

'Yennefer? Why are you using telepathy?'

'I must be brief. I'm not sure how much of this Philippa can hear.'

'She can't eavesdrop on us without us noticing. She's not that powerful.'

'Be that as it may, we still don't have much time. Are you aware who the guests of honor are?'

'I don't really remember. A couple minor nobles from Ebbing and Maecht, I think.'

'In a minute, their names will be announced, and you will see them enter the room. You must not betray your surprise, and you should keep Philippa from seeing them.'

'Why? What's so important that you want me to lie?'

'You'll see.'

The other sorceress cut off the connection, then she and Geralt politely left. Triss was puzzled, and did not bother to hide that fact. She turned to Philippa, who seemed entirely unconcerned.

"Well that was interesting."

"Indeed. They say no witcher has ever died in his bed, but Geralt just might be the first. If he can't be killed by a higher vampire, I don't foresee anything doing the trick."

"Don't tell me you plan on trying."

"It might make for an interesting diversion. But it wouldn't serve the Empire, which I must at least be seen doing this evening."

She laughed, and they moved on to the hors d'oeuvres. Triss had grown less concerned with watching her figure after practically starving to death had stopped being a lifestyle choice and simply became her life while she hid like a rat in Novigrad and ate scraps to survive. Diets had stopped making sense to her after that, and being with Philippa provided plenty of exercise if nothing else.

"Mmm," she moaned, savoring an exquisite slice of artisanal cheese. "Oh, this is wonderful."

"Don't get lost in the food, Triss. We're here on business."

"Sorry. I just haven't had anything this tasty in—"

"Miss Merigold?"

She turned around to see a tall blonde man wearing an extravagant purple outfit. He was smiling at her, and after a moment she remembered his face.

"Albert?"

Albert Vegelbud bowed in greeting. "You remember! Thank you once again for your help. Now I'm free to practice my alchemy without fear of witch hunters."

"Is your mother here?"

"Sadly, no. But she sends her regards."

"What's the story behind this one?" asked Philippa.

"Like Albert said, witch hunters were after him because he bragged about his alchemy openly in Novigrad. His mother offered enough money to help me get all the mages in the city to Kovir as long as I helped him escape. She threw a huge banquet, which Geralt and I attended. We helped Albert flee once the guests were drunk enough not to notice."

"You attended with Geralt?"

"Nothing happened," she insisted. "I got a little drunk, made a move, but he helped me come to my senses. Whatever there was between us died after Loc Muinne." She sighed wistfully. "The fireworks were beautiful, though."

"Did you like them? I customized the formulae myself!"

"They were amazing, Albert. I'm glad you're alive and safe."

"All thanks to you, Miss Merigold." He bowed slightly. "If you will excuse me, I must try these grapes."

Triss chuckled and stopped blocking the food table. Albert retrieved the grapes in question and moved back into the crowd, and shortly afterward a bell rang.

"Her Illustrious Highness, Duchess Anna Henrietta!"

The Duchess entered the room from the opposite end of where the guests came in, clad in a golden, flowing gown decorated with hundreds of small diamonds and sapphires. Diamonds also hung from her ears and around her neck, and her tiara rested atop beautifully done hair. Though a Duchess, she looked every bit like a Queen. She stood to the side, awaiting the announcement of the guests of honor.

"Countess Falka of Ebbing, and Countess Mistle of Thurn!"

The name Falka and all its associated memories jolted through her, and she looked more closely. This far away, the two women were just out of Philippa's magically simulated sight. A good thing, too. She didn't recognize the blonde dressed in rich saffron with scarlet accents, standing next to an ashen-haired woman dressed in an off white gown decorated with blue fabric arranged in expensive looking patterns. It was a far cry from the first dress she had seen her in, when she came out of her room at Kaer Morhen and said she was indisposed.

So that's what Yennefer meant. She did her best to conceal her surprise, and when that failed, made sure Philippa couldn't see her face.

'Oh no.'

Ciri wasn't used to being the center of attention. For so long she interacted with the world by passing quickly from one place to the next, leaving only a memory behind her. People always had a story to tell about her, but she interacted with them one on one, or in small groups. Now she had an entire ballroom of people staring at her, and suddenly she felt extremely small.

The dress wasn't helping. It stood in stark contrast to the layered, poofy, fairy tale style favored by the Duchess and by extension her entire court. It was sleek, form-fitting, and white, with intricate designs stitched in blue that depicted a flock of silhouetted swallows taking flight. The dress left one shoulder bare, held up on that side by a narrow strap so thin it may as well not have been there. It seemed strong enough to protect her modesty, though. The skirt would be a problem if she had to fight anybody, but she didn't see the need to worry about that.

Mistle wore a similar dress, with only a difference in color scheme and general pattern. Saffron and scarlet formed an unlikely complement to her own ensemble that Ciri wouldn't have picked herself. But she trusted Yennefer's judgment when it came to fashion.

Her one consolation was that Mistle looked every bit as uncomfortable in her own skin. She held Ciri's hand as they walked forward, provoking some awkward stares from some of the partygoers. Fine then. Let them stare. She breathed deeply and they walked forward together.

"Regretting your wish yet?"

"No. It's just a bit much to take in."

"Nervous in front of all these people?"

"You kidding me? I love attention. I'm worried they'll recognize you."

"We'll deal with that if it comes to it. Yennefer can wipe their minds or something."

"She can?"

Ciri nodded. "She's a sorceress. She can do almost anything."

"That's good to know."

Anna Henrietta stepped in front of them, smiling precisely as much as etiquette demanded. That wasn't to say her enthusiasm was forced. She actually had to tone it down.

"Welcome, ladies! As your hostess, it is our honor to introduce you to the most important of the guests. Others will introduce themselves to you over the course of the evening."

She inclined her head. "Lead on then, Your Grace."

The Duchess led them through the various small groups that had been forming, stopping first by an extremely beautiful blonde woman standing next to a bald man with mutton chops who looked like he had been in a scrap or two. He was dressed in ornamental golden armor, which had its own share of battle scars. Engraved into the chest plate were a set of wings underneath a crown, a piece of steel contrasting against the gold surrounding it. This must be one of the knights errant she had heard so much about.

"We introduce to you the Lady Vivienne de Tabris, and her escort for the evening, the honorable Baron Palmerin de Launfal. Lady Vivienne, Sir Palmerin, this is the Countess Falka of Ebbing, and the Countess Mistle of Thurn. They have recently come into possession of the land surrounding Tesham Mutna, via an inheritance."

"Upon my word, it is delightful to see you both!" Palmerin gave a formal bow and lifted up each of their hands, placing a kiss on the back one at a time. "Welcome to Toussaint!"

"I am also pleased to make your acquaintance," said Vivienne, smiling fairly. "Tesham Mutna, you say? There's no vineyard there. Only some old ruins."

"Which are of great historical significance," Anna Henrietta quickly clarified, holding a finger in the air. "It is not considered working land of course, but both the ladies have plenty of that where they hail from. This does make each of them a Countess, however."

"And how is it the ladies came to share a common inheritance?" she asked. "Are the two of you…" She looked back and forth between the two of them. "Together?"

Ciri braced herself. "We are."

"How wonderful!" Vivienne de Tabris gestured animatedly, but quickly composed herself. "I could tell at once that you were in love!"

That was unexpected. But after all the other reactions she'd faced in her time, she wasn't about to complain.

"Thank you. It means a lot."

"You'll get a different reaction from those who came here straight from Nilfgaard," she told them. "But I believe love wears many faces."

"And you two?" asked Mistle. "Are the two of you… together?"

"Gods, no! Sir Palmerin is here for my protection."

Ciri's eyes widened a bit. "Is it rude to ask why?"

"Not really, but the whole thing is a touch embarrassing. His nephew is… well, he's quite smitten with me, beyond the point of reason. I requested his uncle as my escort in hopes that it would ward him off."

"And for good measure, we made sure Guillaume was not invited," added the Duchess.

"My nephew is fundamentally a good man," said Palmerin. "But when reality fails to conform to his expectations, he has a tendency to try and force it."

Ciri connected the dots. "You mean you're afraid he'd try to…?"

"By the heavens, no! But the Lady has made it clear she does not wish to see him nor speak to him, and Guillaume has repeatedly refused to listen, believing in his heart of hearts that he can somehow win her over. He came to blows with the last escort, so it was decided to have me fulfill the duty, since he would never attack family."

"After all the other lines he's crossed, that one may just be a matter of time."

"Let us hope that is not the case."

"It has been lovely seeing you," said Anna Henrietta. "But you must excuse us so we can continue introducing the ladies to the other guests. Farewell."

"To you as well," said Vivienne, who looked at Ciri. "I hope we can talk more later."

"I hope so too."

They weaved through the party, arriving finally at a pair of what appeared to be twin sisters. They both wore black and gold dresses, but the pattern was reversed for each, so that one had black where the other had gold. Their hair was done up finely, and they wore matching jewelry. If not for the dresses, Ciri would not have been able to tell them apart.

"We present to you Rosa and Edna var Attre," said Anna Henrietta. "The twin daughters of Henry var Attre, the Nilfgaardian ambassador stationed in Novigrad. They are currently traveling the Empire's various provinces. Ladies, these are the Countesses Falka of Ebbing, and Mistle of Thurn."

Ciri glanced between them. "Which is which?"

"I'm Edna," said the one on the left, whose dress contained mostly black, "and this is Rosa."

"Or am I really Edna?" said the other one, and the two of them giggled.

"The training scars on your fingers tell us that you are Rosa," the Duchess replied, then turned to the two of them. "Rosa is a champion fencer with few equals."

"I'd like to test that," said Ciri.

Rosa looked her over. "Not in that gown, I hope."

"Grab a sword later and let's find out."

"There will be time for fun and games later, ladies," Anna Henrietta said, smiling wryly. "For now we must keep moving. Farewell."

"So long!" said Edna.

"I look forward to our duel," said Rosa. "It really will be a shame to cut that dress into ribbons."

Ciri decided against parting with a rude gesture and continued following Anna Henrietta around. Over the next half hour or so, they were introduced to more courtiers and foreign dignitaries than she could possibly keep track of. Finally, they came upon a man who currently had his back turned. He was clad in a yellow and blue doublet, which was ornate and faintly sinister. She inhaled sharply before the Duchess even said his name.

"And finally, at the gentleman's request, we introduce you to another honored guest. A former merchant of mirrors, if we remember correctly. Falka of Ebbing and Mistle of Thurn, this is Gaunter O'Dimm."

He turned around, smiling widely. "Hello," he greeted. "I am simply enchanted to meet you."

Guiding Philippa around to where she wouldn't notice Ciri without letting her know she was being guided proved more difficult than Triss had initially thought. The other woman was more commonly the one doing the manipulating, so it became a tense game in which Triss would suddenly notice something or get caught in a conversation with someone she otherwise wouldn't care about, drawing Philippa in by saying things that were sure to get her attention. Usually things she disagreed with.

Philippa was fairly irritated with her halfway through the evening, which she considered a regrettable but necessary sacrifice. Philippa had said herself that she was here to serve the Emperor's interests, and those included getting his hands on Ciri like he had been trying to since the very first Northern War. Besides, her dalliance with Philippa was born more out of convenience than actual feeling. They liked each other and enjoyed spending time together, but what they had wasn't love. Triss knew what love felt like, but that door had already been closed.

After a while, the woman who had kept pace with several master spies and even outclassed them in cunning began to grow suspicious, at which point Triss felt it necessary to switch tactics. She made sure they found their way back to a certain happy couple.

"Geralt, can I borrow Yennefer? I need to talk to her for a minute."

The Witcher raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "I don't see why not. Though I doubt I'll be able to keep Philippa company as well as you."

"I'm sure you'll manage."

"Don't be long," said Philippa.

"I promise." She turned to Yennefer. "Are you coming?"

"Very well then," said the other sorceress. "Let's talk."

They made their way across the ballroom and out one of the open doors, which led down into the gardens. A significant portion of the guests had made their way there, and were currently engaging in various games. One involved tossing a bag filled with beans into a series of hollow poles arranged like an organ, with different point values assigned to various holes drilled into them through which the beanbag was thrown.

Another crowd had gathered around an illusionist, who made fantastical creatures appear from thin air, to the delight of those without magical talent. Triss and Yennefer regarded the amateur trickery with utter indifference.

A miniature Gwent tournament had started in one corner of the gardens, with five tables currently set up. From what Triss had heard, Geralt's deck was fairly impressive, and he'd won a couple tournaments himself. She had never quite taken an interest in the game, but apparently had a card named after her, as did Yennefer. She missed the days when people only knew them from ballads.

Finally they reached an abandoned alcove with a view overlooking Seidhe Llygad, the lake bordering Beauclair from the eastern Hauteville side. They could see boats carrying several couples along the water, illuminated by floating lanterns. They found a bench and sat down, having not said a word to each other since the ballroom.

"So Ciri's alive."

"She is."

"Why didn't you tell me? You know I can keep a secret."

"Even under torture? This way you couldn't give away information you didn't have."

"That's bullshit, Yenna. You're mad at me for something. That's why you didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell you because I never had the opportunity," the other sorceress said, honestly this time. "I went as far away from Nilfgaard and sovereigns in general as I could possibly get. I was only ever in Emhyr's service to find Ciri. Now I'm done with politics."

"I'm not. Half the continent is still in shambles because of the war. Kovir has the money to help, but Nilfgaard has the manpower. Ever since the amnesty, Emhyr's been working closely with the Lodge and even heeding some of our advice. At the very least we got him to put an end to the public executions in Novigrad."

"Are you ever going to stop trying to save the world?"

"It doesn't seem likely."

"That's a shame."

"At least I can see further than five feet around me," she replied. "I care about the bigger picture, not just myself."

"You don't care about yourself at all. You've always put your own needs last, Triss. One of these days that's going to get you killed."

"I don't think your selfishness protects you from death any better."

"Touché."

Despite herself, Triss suddenly started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"I missed this, Yenna. We were friends once, remember?"

"I was under the impression we still are."

"That's not what I mean. Before any of this shit happened with Geralt, Nilfgaard, Ciri, or the Lodge, we'd meet a few times a year and just talk. It didn't matter what it was about. We never agreed on anything, but we always got along. I miss that."

"I miss it too."

"So are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

Yennefer grew still, looking out over the lake and the boats. "I hadn't planned on it."

"Is it Ciri? I told you, I feel exactly the same way about her as you do. Philippa and Rita are the ones who wanted to put her in charge of the Lodge."

"It's not that."

"Geralt?"

"Don't make me laugh."

Triss frowned. "It's Philippa, isn't it?"

She said nothing.

"What's the problem? Who I see is my business. We're happy together."

"Are you really? Or can you just not stand to be alone?"

"I can be alone!" she shouted, rocketing to her feet. "I've been alone! I was alone in Novigrad, and I survived just fine! You're the one who can't be on your own!"

"Calm down, Triss."

"I am calm!" She sat down in a huff. "I am calm," she repeated more quietly.

"That's better."

"Come on, Yenna," she pleaded. "Be honest with me."

"Do you recall what happened shortly after the last time I discovered you and Philippa were together?"

She nodded. "You got captured by Vilgefortz."

"I did."

"What does us being in a relationship have to do with that?"

"Absolutely nothing." She continued staring at the boats. "But when I see the two of you together, I can't think of anything else."

Triss sighed, and her temper subsided. Slowly, she put an arm around Yennefer and brought her into a hug. After a minute or so, she released her.

"I've heard of cases like that. Sometimes an event is so traumatic that it lingers in your mind long after it's over. And sometimes seeing tangentially related but very specific things can bring those memories back. Your body thinks the danger's not over, and you can have panic attacks or even hallucinate the event, reliving it in a way."

"I know. That's what Nenneke told me when I asked her."

"Have you been dealing with that this whole time?"

"The panic attacks don't happen anymore. I have nightmares sometimes. But it's my burden to bear. As I said, you should think about yourself more often."

Triss placed her hands on her knees and stared straight ahead. "I had no idea. I had a hard time dealing with things after Sodden Hill, but I got through it years ago. Was Nenneke able to help at least?"

"She gave me some herbs that calmed me," she answered. "And then we talked. For hours. Days. She said I had to relive the experience so my body could understand that I wasn't still in danger. And it worked. For a while. But every so often something triggers a memory and I have to be alone for a time."

"I'm so sorry, Yenna."

"Don't be. Not your fault."

"Does Geralt know?"

"He does. Sometimes I wish I'd undergone those mutations. It would be nice not to feel this way."

"I'm not going to be with Philippa forever," she revealed. "She's using me and I'm using her, and both of us knew that going in. It's just for fun."

"I understand. It's quite the opposite with me and Geralt."

Triss stiffened, then exhaled deeply. "Well, not all of us are lucky enough to have our fates bound by a wish."

"We're not. Not anymore."

"What to you mean?"

"I found another Djinn," Yennefer explained. "Geralt helped me weaken it and I freed it in exchange for undoing the wish that bound us. I thought it would feel different after. But the way I feel about him stayed exactly the same. For him as well."

She frowned and turned away. "Guess that means you really were meant for each other."

"Triss, what's wrong?"

"You might be over our little love triangle, but I'm sure as hell not." She turned to face her again. "What you told me just now helps me understand why you said all those things on the way to Rivia, but they still hurt."

Yennefer turned to her, a sad understanding in her eyes. "I never apologized for that, did I?"

"No, and I don't need you to. You were right. I swore I'd never let Geralt get between us, but after listening to Fringilla report back on how much she'd been fucking him silly, I got a little… okay, a lot jealous. Even though he hadn't returned my feelings in years at that point. You saw right through that."

"I still hurt you, and for that I'm sorry. I wasn't as careful with my words back then."

"Well, it wasn't just back then. After both of you disappeared and Geralt suddenly showed back up again, I practically threw myself at him. We've never talked about it, but I know you're still mad at me for that on some level."

Yennefer smiled impishly. "The last time I was at Kaer Morhen, I threw the bed out the window."

"Hey! I liked that bed."

"That's why I did it. I was angry that Geralt had kept it even after you two broke things off. I directed all my anger about it towards him, because I knew he could take it. I'm afraid I've none left."

"You should have directed a little of it my way," said Triss. "He had the excuse of losing his memory, but I knew exactly what I was doing. I just had no reason to believe you would ever come back. And I'll be honest: after all the times you rubbed it in my face over the years, I wanted to get back at you a little."

She looked down. "I regret that now."

"You shouldn't. I'd have done the same in your shoes. There was a time I'd have never let you hear the end of it, but now that thought wearies me. He's the one I blame, memory loss or not. I know that's not rational, but I just don't feel like taking it out on you anymore. The version of me that would died that day in Rivia."

"Well, if you don't still hold anything against me I might be able to forgive myself one day," she said, then smiled hopefully. "Still friends?"

"Of course."

The smile brightened. Yennefer smiled back.

"You know, I almost regret that we've probably missed our chance to have a go at each other for a change."

Triss laughed. "Oh yeah? How do you see that working?"

"Not for very long. But it could be fun."

"I'm sure it would drive Geralt crazy. I don't think Philippa would mind, as long as she was involved."

"Ugh. Perish that thought, then."

They said nothing for a few minutes, just watching the boats on the pond.

"We should probably head back inside."

"In a minute," said Yennefer, leaning into Triss while she did the same. "Let's just sit here a while."