A loud gurgling noise broke Triss' concentration. She stopped reading, looked up at Geralt, then chuckled.
"Geralt," she lightly chided. "Your stomach is killing the mood."
Just then, a loud rumble erupted from Triss' belly.
"What's that?" Geralt teased. "I can't hear you over the sound of your stomach, Triss."
"Shut up, love," she replied with a smirk. "It does not befit a sorceress to allow her stomach to growl."
"Mmhmm, neither does blushing, walking, saying goodbye, crying, eating, sleeping, laughing, making love, and being human."
"Hilarious, witcher," Triss said while rolling her eyes. "You really are cute when you try to be funny."
The red-haired sorceress then put the diary down, stood up, and stretched. She offered her hand to Geralt, who promptly took it.
"Come," she said. "Let's get something to eat."
The two proceeded into their spacious kitchen. Geralt went into the larder and removed a haunch of dried venison. He sliced off a healthy portion and put it on a plate. Then, the witcher grabbed two of the sweet rolls that Triss had baked the day before. He then sat at their table and began wolfing down his breakfast.
Meanwhile, the sorceress was filling a kettle with water. Once filled, she used her magic to light the stove and placed the kettle thereupon. She then grabbed a baguette, a butter knife, and a pot of honey and joined her lover at the table.
They ate in silence for a long while. When Triss was about halfway through her breakfast, she looked up at her witcher.
"I'm sorry, Geralt." said Triss suddenly.
"Mph," replied Geralt, mouth full of food. He gulped it down, and then asked: "What for?"
Triss sighed and then looked down at her hands. "I should never have encouraged you to stay in that battle."
"Which battle?" asked Geralt.
"The one we were just reading about. Against the La Valettes. You were right, it was a stupid war. One you didn't want to participate in, yet I told you to stick it out – earn the king's gratitude. Instead of gratitude, you got blamed for his death. Everything was going so well for us, until that moment. And it was all my fault."
"It's okay, Triss," replied Geralt gently. "No way you could've known."
Triss looked up, flashed a brief smile, and then her face returned to a frown. She resumed looking downward and spoke softly. "I know, but... you were only there in the first place because of me. Because I pushed you into a role you didn't want to play. Yet you did it for me. As a result, you suffered so terribly. It seems that no matter how hard I try, I always end up hurting you."
The sorceress tried to turn her head away, but Geralt grabbed her hands.
"Hey, look at me," he lightly commanded. Triss turned to face him. A few tears were rolling down her cheeks. "You did nothing wrong, Triss. Nothing. It was my fault King Foltest died that day. I let my guard down. I let Letho get the better of me. You can't blame yourself for my mistakes."
"But you were framed!" cried Triss. "Blamed for the whole thing. Even today, some people still think you're a kingslayer. Did you know that some of the Koviri nobles tried to bar you from moving in with me? They wanted to ban you from entering Kovir altogether – thinking you would try something against Thyssen! All of that, and more, could have been avoided if I hadn't pressured you into playing the king's bodyguard. Yes, King Foltest would still probably be dead, but your name would be clean!"
"I don't care about my name or reputation," replied Geralt. "I'm used to people looking down on me and witchers in general. They think us unfeeling monsters who snatch children away in the dead of night."
"This is different! My stupid selfishness caused you so much pain! If only I had known –"
"Listen Triss," Geralt interrupted. The witcher gently placed his hands on her cheeks and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. Then, he continued. "I didn't fall in love with you because you were omniscient. I fell in love with you, in large part, because you cared for me when I needed it the most. We've both suffered greatly in those times, but you were always by my side. You dropped everything to help me, and that means the world to me. And you are not selfish! Your diary confirmed what I already knew – you consistently put others' needs above your own. Countless times you have risked not only your reputation, but your very life for me. No one is perfect, true. We all make mistakes. But after everything you've sacrificed for me and Ciri, how could I look at you with anything other than the deepest admiration?"
Triss sniffled, then smiled at Geralt. "Thank you, Geralt. I... thank you."
Just then, a loud whistle pierced the air.
"Water's boiling," said Triss as she got up from the table. She then extinguished the magic fire with a flick of her hand, opened the lid to the kettle, and added some tea leaves. "Tea will be ready soon. Would you like some, love?"
"Sounds good."
Triss walked back over and sat down at the table to resume her breakfast. Meanwhile, Geralt helped himself to a third pastry.
"Gods, you make me so jealous!" said Triss with a smile, her good humor having been restored. "How can you eat so much and not gain a pound?"
"Witchers' metabolism. Makes me ravenous sometimes."
"I see. With that appetite you're going to eat me out of house and home!" teased Triss.
"Don't know about the house and home, but I'll definitely eat you out any day of the week."
"Ooh, aren't you feisty?" purred Triss. She leaned forward slightly and whispered huskily: "Tonight, I'll prepare your favorite meal. Nice, hot, and juicy – just how you like it."
"Mm, I can taste it already," replied the witcher.
"I bet. But for now, you'll have to make due with tea."
Triss got up and walked over to the stove whilst swaying her hips. She strained the tea from the kettle into a tea-pot. She then poured two cups, adding two lumps of sugar to hers.
She walked back and placed the cups on the table. She leaned over extra-long while placing Geralt's cup in front of him, ensuring he got a nice view of her cleavage.
"Keep teasing me like that, and I'll have to take you right here!" growled Geralt.
"Tempting. But, I want you nice and eager tonight! Remember, I'm still punishing you for earlier," she said with a devilish grin
"This torture is too much," sulked the witcher.
"Don't worry, love. It's only a few hours. Then you can have your way with me."
"I'll hold you to that."
The two sipped their tea and chatted casually for a while. Triss provided some details about the latest court gossip (Lord Ethelbarge may be a boring in a professional setting, but his personal life is positively scintillating), while Geralt reminisced about a recent contract in which he tracked a forktail for miles (he finally tracked the beast to her lair and was ambushed by her mate; however, the witcher obviously prevailed). They also talked a bit about Dandelion and his upcoming performance tonight with his companion. Priscilla was a native to Kovir, and the two decided to settle down in this far distant country. Though they resided in the same city as Triss and Geralt, the minstrel and his lover lived on the other side of the city (for which Geralt was eternally grateful).
"I hope the bard is brief. I really don't want to be there all evening," Geralt commented.
"Well, you're the one who agreed to go," the sorceress pointed out.
"I know, but I don't have the heart to turn down Dandelion. He's like a small puppy: full of energy, never shuts up, and is impossible to refuse."
"Geralt, he's our friend."
"Hmph, unfortunately," replied Geralt. "Don't give me that look, Triss. It's the nature of our friendship. I like to give him a hard time, sure. But I'd go to Hell and back for him."
"Aww, so you do care about him after all? So sweet."
By this point, the two had finished their tea. Their hunger and thirst satisfied, they decided to return to the parlor and continue reading and reminiscing about the past. The two sat down on the couch and Triss snuggled up to her lover. She then grabbed her diary and flipped open to where they had left off.
"July twenty-first, twelve seventy-one. The Pontar River..."