She fastened her diamond earrings before fixing the black choker around her neck. She found her palms to be infuriating sweaty inside her gloves, and she was annoyed at the fact she felt nervous for no reason. Especially when it was her idea.
Then she contemplated whether it was nerves at all, and rather a searing anticipation. She paced the kitchen as she waited for the woman, who insisted she could ready herself. She noticed Triss has gone to the spare room, it was also where Ciri and her had left her clothes. She wondered, now that the spare room was vacant once more, and Triss was doing so much better, if she would no longer sleep with Yennefer. It could be the defining moment in the path they were currently on, and she found herself hoping it wouldn't be the end. If Triss said nothing, and simply went to the spare room on her own accord, she wasn't sure she would try and stop her if that was what Triss wanted.
The sound of her footsteps forced her to abandon thought as she rounded the corner of the hall, looking as dazzling as ever in her blue gambeson accompanied by a midnight cloak adorning her shoulders. Her shining red hair was pulled back in her signature hairstyle, red tendrils softening the edges of her face.
Yennefer couldn't help but stare.
"You're rather adept at rendering me speechless," Yennefer purred in a low voice as she approached she was aware of how intimate her compliment was, but she figured they were past the point of subtlety now.
"The feeling is mutual," Triss said with a lopsided grin as her eyes raked over her body, "you look nice."
She smirked as she opened the door for them, allowing Triss to take the lead downstairs and out to the street. Yennefer locked the door of the shop behind them, and offered Triss an arm with a shy smile. She took it eagerly with her good arm once she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, tucking her gauntlet out of sight into the fabric.
Their boots crunched in the snow, barely audible over the business of the street. The sky was alight with a purple glow in the setting sun, the air carrying a pleasant smoky aroma from the direction of the Inn.
"Vengerberg is beautiful," Triss said wistfully as she gazed at the snowy world around her, "I'm glad I got to see it."
"There's much more to see, I would be happy to show you," she said as they approached the inn, "this is The Wounded Wyvern, they do an excellent fish."
She opened the door, the warm air blasting through the chill, and they stepped into the candlelit room. Music played softly by a group of bards on the corner stage, and many heads turned to their direction once they entered. She felt Triss shift uncomfortably beside her, and she pulled her closer reassuringly.
"Madam Yennefer!" a voice boomed from their right, and she turned to see the innkeep beaming at them.
"Darby," she greeted warmly to the short, scrawny bald man, "business is well, I see?"
"Positively booming!" he squeaked cheerfully, "come come, let me seat you, best table in the house-"
"-Actually, Darby," she politely interjected, "I was hoping you had a more private table?"
"But of course!" he said after recovering slightly, "come to the back over here, nice and dark, a lone table for you and your companion!"
He lead them to the back of the room, where a table sat on a slightly elevated platform. True to his word, no other tables were placed very close by. He eagerly pulled out their chairs, before coming to stand before them.
"You've picked a lovely night to attend if I do say so myself," he said merrily as he clapped his hands together, "Lady Lorelai will be performing shortly, she has the voice of an army of angels!"
"That sounds wonderful," Yennefer replied, "and what of the menu for the evening?"
"We have our signature lemon and herb fish, caught fresh just this afternoon! Or if you would prefer red meat, we have a choice cut of veal and gravy."
"I'll have the fish, please," Triss said without having to think about it. Yennefer figured she wouldn't have an issue cutting the fish herself.
"I'll have the same," Yennefer decided, "and a bottle of your finest Toussaint red."
"Excellent choice, Madam Yennefer, I'll return with your meals post haste!"
With a quick bow the tiny man was scurrying off, and Yennefer could feel Triss' eyes on her. She turned and smiled under the gaze, "what is it?"
Triss smile grew, her eyes twinkling, "Toussaint red?"
She cocked an eyebrow, "that is your favorite, isn't it?"
Triss shook her head, her smile shy and a little disbelieving, "yes, it is, it's just…I'm surprised you remember. Now I'm definitely convinced you're spoiling me."
She bit her lip, "maybe I am. Maybe you deserve it."
The red head tongued her cheek and looked away, pretending to be interested in the music, but Yennefer could see the blush dusting her nose. She was fully aware that the two of them were now openly flirting, there was no denying it, and she was also certain as where the direction their relationship was headed. It's not as though she ever protested it as hard as she should've, and day by day, the voice that told her to run had grown a little quieter.
"You're rather popular here, aren't you? I'd say the people love you," Triss said, her voice filled with admiration.
Yennefer smiled wistfully as she gazed around the room, "I'm happy to assist the people of Vengerberg, no matter how trivial it all seems sometimes. I remember returning after Aretuza, and how bored I was of it all," she sighed at the memory, "I was young…green…I thirsted for a life of something more, something grand. Gods, now that I've seen enough for ten lifetimes, it's a relief to be home."
"It looks as though the decision to return has been good to you," Triss said softly, "in all the years I've known you, I don't think I've ever seen you so at peace.".
"Do you ever think about returning to Maribor?" she asked the red head just as the wine arrived to their table. They both smiled gratefully to the servant girl as she filled their glasses, and waited for her departure before Triss continued.
"Honestly, no," she said as she eyed her glass, "it's not that the memories are bad, per say, but there's nothing there for me anymore. Aretuza was probably the only place that ever felt remotely like a home, as sad as that is."
Her eyes were amused at the self depreciating joke, but Yennefer was busy thinking of the fact that it was a truth she hadn't thought about before. Triss never really did have a home, not one she felt was hers anyway. The thought saddened her slightly.
"I suppose it doesn't matter much where one is from.," she said as she took a sip of the red liquid, "or rather, the lives we affect along the way. As I recall, you've made quite the name for yourself doing just that, Merigold the Fearless."
She added a sly wink as Triss laughed beautifully, the sound more heavenly than the music that flowed through the air. "that's me, though, perhaps not so much anymore."
Yennefer shook her head, "even more so now than ever. Radovid doesn't know what he's in for, when he comes to face you."
Triss' gazed at her with appreciation for her encouragement. She swore her eyes went to her lips for the briefest of moments, but it could have been her imagination.
"I think you're right," she said in a low voice, "sometimes I wonder what kind of woman I'll become if he were standing before me."
"You'll always be Triss Merigold," Yennefer said assuredly, "Fourteenth of the Hill. A force to be reckoned with, but one of the gentlest souls known to man. I know you won't do anything you don't wish to do."
"As long as I have you with me," she said shyly, and Yennefer didn't miss how her hand twitched on the table, as though tempted to reach for her.
Yennefer took it for her then, giving her hand a squeeze, "of course I will be."
Their food arrived then, creating a break in the conversation. The fish was divine, as usual, and she found herself happy to have someone to share the atmosphere with. Triss expressed her gratitude for the meal, seemingly pleased with the properly cooked food. Yennefer was just happy that Triss had come so far in her recovery to want to come out with her.
The crowded room began to whistle and cheer, as the torches were extinguished save for a few, leaving the room in a dull orange glow. Footsteps resounded on the stage as a beautiful woman with curly brown ringlets flowing down her back began to ascend the steps, a lute in hand.
Their attention was taken by the smiling woman, her eyelashes fluttering prettily under the gaze of the room. She took a seat at the stool center stage, and began to strum delicately, the light sound filling the now hushed room.
When she began to sing, the room gravitated impossibly closer to the sound. She had to admit, her voice was rather enthralling, though Triss' close proximity served to be much more distracting. She tried to focus on the song, to listen to the lyrics of the mournful lament of heartbreak and longing, but she found her arm much more interested in the woman beside her.
Triss had moved closer, shifting her chair to face the stage when Lady Lorelai appeared, and perhaps it was the dimmed lights or the privacy of their corner that emboldened her, but she moved to place a gentle hand at the small of Triss' back.
At first, the action seemed either unnoticed or unbothered, and Yennefer allowed herself to relax before she saw movement from the corner of her eye. It seemed Triss was never one to be outdone when it comes to their games, for she placed her warm hand on Yennefer's thigh, awfully close to the inside, and she swore she saw the woman smirk triumphantly.
Her smirk stirred something within Yennefer; it was the dominant side of her, the side that grew excited at the prospect of a challenge. Perhaps not here, but the thought of wiping the expression from her face behind closed doors might have once been an unwelcome one, but now it caused a pleasant surge of adrenaline in her belly.
It was unfortunately far from the first time she had fantasized about sex with her; she wondered just what kind of lover she was, what turned her on the most, what made her scream into the night in a voice thick with pleasure. She imagined Triss would be submissive, as she would hope for her to be, though she wouldn't object to Triss taking control of her either.
Which was currently at the forefront of her mind, as elegant fingers danced over the leather of her pants, stretching tantalizingly close to her nether regions. She had no doubts that if she were to reach over and undo the fabric right now, Triss would pleasure her right here in this room full of people, should she ask her to. The thought was dangerously tempting, so much so she had to clench her fist to stop her from doing something so incredibly stupid.
She wasn't sure how long she remained caught in between the addictive music and the exhilarating touch from Triss, stuck between wanting the moment to last longer and for it to dissipate entirely so she could think clearly again.
It wasn't until the crowd broke out in an uproarious cheer that she was jarred from her less than pure thoughts, and she looked down to see the hand had stopped it's ministrations and abandoned her thigh. Dragging her eyes upwards she was met with kind eyes, and she enjoyed the warmth that spread through her heart at the way Triss looked at her.
She wondered if her face betrayed what she felt only moments ago, and she cleared her throat awkwardly, "would you like to head back? You look tired," she resisted the urge to stroke her cheek.
"Yes, that sounds good," she agreed, taking a proffered arm as she stood.
Yennefer paid their bill and led them back into the now dark street, the chill in the air sharper than it had been earlier. She pulled Triss a little closer to her without thinking, though she met no resistance.
"That was so nice," Triss said dreamily, "I didn't know you had a care for music now?"
Yennefer snorted, "well, Dandelion had ruined it for me there for awhile. But I do find it enjoyable, now that I have the time for it. I'm glad you liked it."
"It was wonderful," she sighed happily, "thank you for convincing me to get out of the house. I think I needed that."
"Im happy you agreed to come with me," Yennefer replied as she unlocked the door to her shop. It was dark when they entered the loft, and with a wave of her hand the fire had come to life, casting shadows on the room around them.
The air grew heavy around them as neither spoke, wordlessly removing their boots at the door. Yennefer tried to steady her heart as she decided to take the lead down the hall towards her bedroom. She could hear Triss following quietly behind her, even as she entered her chambers, though the sound of her footsteps ceased at the doorway.
She braced herself as she began to remove her earrings at the dresser, she could feel Triss' gaze on her, could practically hear the words she wanted to say, and she didn't have to wait long for them to become reality.
"Yenna?" she said softly, her voice full of uncertainty.
She stopped what she was doing, giving the woman the respect of facing her for this conversation.
"Yes?"
She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, a blush evident on her face, "I was thinking…with Ciri gone, it's really no longer necessary I continue to sleep in your bed…if you want, I can move back to the spare room?"
And there it was. The question was out there. The one whose answer would decide where they went from here. She knew what Triss was really asking, she too grew tired of the game of cat and mouse, the field of uncertainty they continued to play in. It was here and now, she gave Yennefer the choice, the one they would take together, depending on what came out of her mouth next.
She surprised herself, when she already knew her answer.
"Come here," she said softly, holding out her hand.
A beat, then Triss legs slowly carried her to the dresser as though in a dream. She gave a trembling hand to Yennefer, who took it and held it gently between them, her thumbs caressing the soft skin.
"I want you to stay," she whispered, watching as Triss' breath hitched in her throat. Yennefer had to break her gaze, her eyes going to their entwined hands, "Triss…"
The words stuck infuriatingly in her throat. She was Yennefer of Vengerberg, for fuck sake, and she couldn't convey her feelings to the woman in front of her like a normal person. She watched as the silver glove came to rest on one of her hands, the metal soothing her burning skin.
"Talk to me," Triss pleaded, her voice barely audible over her own heartbeat.
She wet her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She forced her eyes to meet Triss', refusing to cower in the face of her feelings.
"I've been having these feelings for you," she began, her voice barely steady, "feelings I never expected, nor do I understand. I think you know…"
Triss nodded numbly, her eyes locked on Yennefer's as she hung on every word.
She swallowed hard, "I tried to ignore it, I really did, I…I never wanted this to happen Triss."
She didn't miss how Triss flinched at her words, the sting affecting them both.
"Why?" she whispered, her eyes glistening.
Yennefer stepped closer to her, so she may hear what she was barely able to choke out, "because I don't want to put myself in a position to be hurt by you again."
Triss' gasped and her lip trembled, and she removed her hand from Yennefer's grasp to place it on her cheek. It was warm and comforting, and she leaned into the touch as though she craved it.
"I would never hurt you again, Yenna," she said tearfully, her eyes pleading, "I know you can't believe that, but I would spend every day proving it to you," her breath shuddered as she spoke.
Yennefer shook her head, "it doesn't matter. Even if I can't be sure, I don't want to run from it anymore. I'm no coward, if this is to hurt me," her voice was a whisper as she drew her hands up to Triss face, her thumbs sweeping the tense muscles of her jaw, "so be it."
She closed the distance between them, letting her senses to be filled with the honeycrisp sweetness that was Triss Merigold, relishing in the whimper that escaped her lips before it was shortly lost in her own mouth when they made contact.
It was nothing like the first time they kissed; that one had been violent and born of anger, it sought to take rather than to give. This one had to be opposite of all of that. It was soft and full of a curiosity, a sweet tenderness, dare she say even loving. Triss moved her lips gently against her own, her arms already wrapped around Yennefer's neck.
She tasted like spring; like the sweetness only found once a year when everything is in full bloom, the world a kaleidoscope of colors. If she could convert it to a sense of taste, this had to be it. Her abdomen clenched when her tongue ran gently along her bottom lip, timidly asking for more, and Yennefer would oblige her, she would give her anything in this moment.
Her lips parted to allow Triss further access, their tongues moving together gently in what was not a war for dominance, but in wonderful exploration. She moved her hands from Triss' face, letting them roam briefly down her figure to rest on her hips and pulled her closer until they were flush together.
She wondered how she had held it together for so long, for now that she had just a taste of the woman, she knew it would never be enough. Her heart ached when she realized that it would likely be just like Geralt all over again, the longing, the desperation.
Her hand had snaked to her raven locks, she felt the pull as she anchored her there, and she heard the keening sound from the back of Triss' throat, the whimper out of fear of loss. So she pressed back, trying to convey her will to be here through it, to let her know she wasn't running this time.
She felt the both of them collide gently with something solid; it was the dresser, Triss had pulled them to it, as though she didn't trust her legs to hold her up any longer. Yennefer in kind tightened the grip around her waist, cementing the woman to her.
After what seemed like an eternity they parted reluctantly for air, though they didn't separate their bodies. She dared open her eyes, where she was met with a sea of blue, hooded and alight with desire. She felt her breath coming out in soft, rapid pants against her lips, and her eyes dropped even lower to where the expanse of skin that covered her pulse thudded madly on her throat, the beating flesh calling to her inner desires.
She dipped her head lower, as a woman possessed, latching her warm lips to the enticing bit of flesh, suckling on the pulse she knew she caused to race so.
"Oh! Yenna…" Triss gasped, her voice laced with primal need, fueling the fire that had begun to burn low in her belly. She wanted to hear her name spoken with such lust again, she wanted to hear it always.
She needed it.
So she sunk her teeth into the soft of her neck, clamping her legs together as Triss hissed in pleasurable pain.
"Y-Yenna! Please-wait-"
She drew back, the word being uttered from Triss lips was enough to pierce through the fog of arousal currently enveloping her brain. She tried to make sense of it all, had she grossly misread the situation? Was it Triss, who would regret this, and not her like she would've thought?
She searched her eyes for a hint of discomfort, but all she found was the same burning desire that was surely reflected in her own expression. Her brows furrowed in a question, waiting for Triss to explain her sudden retraction.
Triss worried her lip between her teeth, still puffy from the kiss they shared only moments ago. The act was adorable, though equally arousing.
"There's something I need you to know," Triss finally said into the quiet of the room, "sit with me."
Yennefer was thoroughly nonplussed, but her hazy condition allowed Triss to lead them to the bed. Part of her mind screamed to continue what they were doing, the throb in her loins frustrated by the interruption, but whatever was on Triss' mind was clearly important to her.
She resisted the urge to reach for her again. As though with the now open floodgates of their relationship, she couldn't get enough of her. She spent countless hours of the night imagining her hands on the woman, and now that she was finally doing it, it took everything in her to hold back. She turned to her, and Triss took her hand into her own, her eyes focused on the way her thumb swept across her palm, as though grounding her.
"Do you remember," she started, her voice light and soothing on the ears, "when we were...in the bathtub, when you said there was something I wasn't telling you?"
She did remember, "yes?"
"There is something," she said, her voice wavering slightly, "something that might shed light onto everything I've done, everything that I'm doing…"
Yennefer was confused. She shook her head slightly, her mind racing to figure out what she was talking about.
"You can tell me," she breathed, squeezing her hand in kind.
Triss sighed, her shoulders slumping with the burden of the knowledge she carried. "I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you…I think it might be best if I show you."
Her brows furrowed, "show me?"
She watched her throat bob, her gaze still transfixed on Yennefer's hand as though studying. She turned it over, running her fingers over the soft skin, stopping to trace her rings, running the length to her fingernails.
"Telempathy," she whispered simply, though the word carried much more weight than one might guess.
Yennefer's gaze snapped to her then, her expression incredulous. What Triss was suggesting was a sensitive subject in the sorceress world, the main reason being just how intimate and personal such an act of magic was. There were strict, unwritten rules that all magical beings abided by when it came to mind reading, such as the understanding that it is never, ever, to be committed without the explicit consent of both parties involved. The mind is dangerously powerful, and to connect with ones mind is to connect with their deepest secrets and desires, should you easily go looking. Not only their thoughts, but their rawest of emotions as well, and nothing could be done to hide said feelings once someone was inside.
Her mouth hung open in disbelief. She was tempted to see what Triss had stored in the recesses of her mind, she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't curious. But the fact that Triss was even offering to show her such a private part of her, surely meant that she would tell the truth if Yennefer asked her to.
"Triss, you don't have to do this-"
"I want to," she interjected, "I know what this means…and I have nothing to hide from you. Anything you see, I'm prepared for you to do so."
Yennefer searched her gaze for any hint of hesitation. While Triss looked slightly perplexed, her gaze was unwavering.
"If you're sure…"
"I am," she insisted, albeit a little shakily, "I only fear that you'll run from what you find there. That you'll run from me."
Yennefer turned more on the bed, pulling Triss with her, until they were sitting cross-legged and facing one another. She took Triss hand into both of her own, her face set in a steely resolve.
"I'm done running. I won't run from you, and I won't run from this. Whatever it is, we will work through it together. I promise you."
Triss gave her a watery smile, before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Alright, are you ready?"
Yennefer nodded, her words failing her. Triss sat a little taller, and locked her gaze onto her. Violet orbs onto the woman's cornflower blues, Yennefer felt the familiar hum of magic began to pulse in her ears, whispers of Triss mind beginning to flow into her conscience.
As expected, the connection then burst open like a floodgate, and she was thrown from her current reality into the depths of Triss' memories.
Her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings, now inside Triss mind where she kept the memories of her life thus far. She was seeing the world as though through Triss' eyes, and she was surprised to be staring at her own self, at what appeared to be the dining table in Aretuza.
It was a little bizarre, watching her younger self sit down at her own side, or rather Triss' side. She was a little confused as to why Triss chose this memory to show her, and she almost decided to push away until she felt something. Something in the way she was looking at herself, she could feel what Triss was feeling in this moment.
Longing, desire, and complete and utter heartbreak. She felt Triss' opinion of her beauty in this moment, how her eyes were drawn to her, as though Yennefer was the only one in the room.
And this was long before Geralt.
Triss was looking at her, even then?
Before she could dwell on Triss' feelings of sadness for long, the memory before her changed, swirling in color and voices so loud it was nearly overwhelming. But the images changed rapidly, and she found herself staring up at a ceiling. Wait, she knew this room-
Kaer Morhen. She was in Kaer Morhen. Geralts room, to be specific.
She felt her true self blood begin to boil slightly, when she saw Geralt enter the room clad in nothing but a towel.
"There you are," he said to her, a half smile playing on his lips, "how much time do you have?"
"All the time for you," Triss chuckled, and Yennefer definitely didn't know why she was showing her this one. It only served to fuel her anger, and witnessing Triss and Geralt in the throes of passion definitely wasn't something she wanted to see.
But he was already crossing the floor, leaning down to press a whiskered kiss to her lips-
And Triss heart felt sour.
She felt dirty, and she felt how Triss didn't want to kiss him. In fact, she felt her disgust when it happened. So why did she do it?
She wished it wasn't his lips. She wished it wasn't his hand coming to cup her breast, no, she wished it to be Yennefer's.
She felt dizzy inside the connection suddenly, almost breaking it completely. Triss' emotions, along with her own born of confusion, were beginning to feel suffocating. Before she could begin to make sense of it all, the memory rapidly changed again.
She was walking briskly up a set of polished wooden stairs, the action a little frantic. It took her a moment to recognize the surroundings, but when the bards music began to flow up the stairwell she knew they must be at The Chameleon. She also deduced that she must have been here too, somewhere, that this must be when they came to find Philippa after the battle at Kaer Morhen.
Bursting through a seemingly random door on the second floor, she was displeased to find Philippa in this memory as she had suspected, though she could also feel Triss' relief upon finding her.
Philippa's head swiveled in her direction, "Triss."
Panic welled up in Triss' chest as shaky legs took her towards the sorceress, "Phil,-"
"Don't waste either of our time explaining yourself," Philippa drawled, her lips pursed in a displeased line, "because I was right."
Triss shook her head, her vision welling up with tears, "I-I didn't mean for this to h-happen-"
"But you must have?" Philippa said unkindly, "I don't know what you expected when you went chasing after Geralt."
"I just…I just thought-"
"What, that she would actually fall in love with you? You seduced what was hers, Triss, you need to put an end to this ridiculous delusion."
She felt Triss' desperation, "I didn't want her to…to want him, I-Gods, I'm…I'm sick, Philippa. I don't know what's wrong with me! I never wanted to h-hurt her! I didn't think he meant s-so much to her-!"
Triss began to sob, and she felt her fear for doing so in front of Philippa. "I just thought she would come b-back to me, and-"
"Stop your blubbering," Philippa warned, and Triss ceased her tears immediately, "I warned you not to go meddling in their relationship, now look at yourself. Heartbroken over a woman who wouldn't look twice your way. And history repeats itself Triss, as you come crawling back to me, itching for something to take the pain away."
Triss nodded, her heart shattering in her chest, "please, Phil…"
Philippa stood from her seat, making her way over to Triss, towering over the woman as she cowered in on herself.
"The Triss I knew had so much potential," she said with disgust, "this is just pathetic." She was quiet for a moment, as though she were sizing her up, ready to strike. Her jaw flexed, and she didn't miss the twitch in Philippa's hands.
"Strip, and face the wall."
Yennefer didn't want to see this part, where she belittled the woman and treated her so cruelly., especially if she was going to be forced to see Philippa in the near future. The anger she felt was almost enough to overshadow the conversation between them she had just witnessed.
Triss must have anticipated Yennefer's unwillingness to see what transpired afterwards, for the memory changed again, and soon the painful scene before her dissipated in a blur of color and noise.
A dripping sound filled her ears. The room she found herself in was dark, the floors warped and slanted, the candlelight on the desk doing almost nothing to illuminate her surroundings. The rain was relentless outside, and she wondered what Triss was doing, living in such squalor. She deduced that it must be where she stayed in Novigrad as she sought to free the mages.
Triss was sad, in this memory, as with her other ones. She reached for a large, leather bound book that had been tucked away in a drawer, underneath various stacks of parchment.
She reached for a piece of stray charcoal on the desk, and cracked open the leather.
Yennefer swore her heart stopped.
The first page was her, or rather a drawing of her, sitting on a bench underneath a tree. She had an unimpressed look on her face, and she figured this was probably how she looked to everyone. But the drawing itself was immaculate, it had captured her features divinely, down to the last curl of hair.
Triss began to flip through the pages, and Yennefer couldn't believe what the book held. Dozens, if not hundreds, sketches of her in various poses, outfits. Some were profiles, some were silhouettes, and others were shockingly in the nude, even. Some she was smiling, others she was angry, some where she looked like a serene goddess.
She stopped at a page in particular. It was of Yennefer's shoulders and up. She wore no clothes, though the picture stopped just at the top of her breasts. She still wore her signature choker around her neck, and the picture depicted her rolling the pendant between her thumb and forefinger, her gaze locked on something in the distance, her expression almost thoughtful.
Triss fingers stretched daintily over the sketch, the tips running gently down the curve of her face, over her lips.
She longed for her.
More than that, it was clear from both what she saw, and what she knew Triss felt, that Triss Merigold was undeniably in love with her. So much so, it seemed to border on obsession, or at least an infatuation.
Hundreds of drawings, all of them a decree of her love.
For years, decades even, she felt this way, and Yennefer was none the wiser.
She loved her.
She broke the connection with a gasp, her eyes wide as she stared at the blushing sorceress before her, who wore a look of utter shame now that her secret was out.
She tried desperately to say something, but all she could manage was-
"Oh shit."