"Haven't you forgotten something?" Lyari asked, grinning from ear to ear and pointing his thumb at her two other friends. "Miss Furry and The Green Menace over there need a bit of magicking to get them to blend in."

"Oh, right," Criss replied in a daze. Her mind had once again drifted to her dead friend. Ila had been the one to enchant Lyari's bag and she looked despondent at the worn leather satchel like it was a small piece of her friend that lingered on. She met her friends' eyes and saw the unspoken expectation in them. No time for grief. She shook off her melancholy, shoving inopportune feelings aside, and pulled out two little rubies from the hidden pocket inside her belt then grabbed a handful of dirt to form into fittings and necklaces for the gems. The spell was reasonably simple since her main goal was to disguise Olir's green skin colour, his ears and bottom canines while leaving the rest of his features intact. By the end, he looked like a gigantic muscular human with an enormous hammer strapped to his back. Not exactly inconspicuous but at least human-looking.

"Mm, not bad," Akira said with a toothy grin after measuring Olir's new look from head to toe.

Criss handed him one of the necklaces after casting a linking spell between the illusion and the gem, then moved on to Akira. Similar to what she had done for the orc, she hid the traits that separated her from a regular human, namely her mane, tail, ears and teeth. She stopped midway through the spell and turned to Geralt.

"Should I change her eyes or can she pass for a mutated human?"

"Change them. Only witchers have those eyes and there's never been a female witcher."

With a curt nod, she resumed her spell, adding human eyes to Akira's new look, then handed her the other similarly bespelled necklace.

"Don't take this off in public or the illusion will shatter. If you were anyone else, I'd warn you about pickpockets but though the city is full of them, I doubt they'd dare approach either of you."

"You never know. Plenty of desperate people in Novigrad," Geralt said with a shrug.

"They'rrre welcome to trrry," Akira said, toying with her dagger. The illusion had concealed her teeth, but the purr in her voice remained. "I could carrrve them a few extrrra pockets with this."

"You just love trouble, don't you?" Lyari sighed. "How about this time we just have a good time?"

"What's a good time without a nice skull-bashing or two?" Olir chimed in.

"Drinks and a lady or two," Lyari replied, eyeing Olir. "Well, maybe three or four in your case."

"That may be the elven way, but orcs…"

"...mate for life. Yeah, I heard. So, skull-bashing it is." He added another dramatic sigh for emphasis.

"And wine. Don't forget the wine," Olir added. "They have wine here, don't they?" he asked, turning to Criss and Geralt.

"Mhm, and plenty of it. But if you want to bash skulls, you'd better do it outside the inn. My friends own the place and won't appreciate you trashing it."

"But of courrrse. We'rrre not animals, you know."

Geralt bit his tongue to keep from making a bad joke and saddled the horses with the extra packs before leading them down the dirt path that winded towards the city.

"What'd you think is the special something the cook has in store? Any chance it's boar?" Olir smacked his lips as if he could already taste all the goodies they'd be served at dinner. "Or maybe some pheasant? I wouldn't mind bird as long as it's gamey."

"I wouldn't mind a bird either," Lyari said with a dirty grin.

"That's already been established, blondie. And knowing you, you'll have a flock around you in no time."

Geralt led Roach along the path, trying to keep close to Criss and Cinnamon rather than the rest of their group. Not that he had anything against them. Her friends were decent folk as far as he knew them, but either they weren't mourners or had had more time to process Ila's death. They were more concerned with planning their good time while Criss was clearly still reeling from the news. And since it didn't seem to be the proper time for a discussion, he did the next best thing - redirect her attention.

"So… your friend and Yen… when did that happen?"

She turned, surprised. "Oh, right… I never told you." Her eyes dropped to the ground and she hummed looking at her feet. "While you were away with Ciri, Yennefer needed help breaking Margarita out of Deireadh, so I asked him for help. I guess he smooth-talked his way into Yen's… sleeping bag." Her lips curled into a smile. "Not that surprising really, once you get to know him. Both he and Akira like to live life and I can't blame them… you never know when it'll end, so they might as well enjoy it while it lasts. I envy them a bit because that's something I've never been able to do. At least not without catching feelings."

"Catching feelings?" he asked, amused. "You make it sound like it's a dangerous contagion, not a delightful emotion."

"Depends on who you catch feelings for. Fall for the wrong person and they can use you, or others can use them against you or you can just hurt them by… Anyway…" She shot him a side look and a small smile. "It's too late for me to worry about that."

"Mm, definitely too late for me too," he replied, feigning seriousness. "But this must be some strange ailment because the last thing I want is a cure. But I do want something…"

"Oh?"

"I want to celebrate the illness that plagues us and being alive to suffer from it."

Her smile faltered a little, but she recomposed herself in the span of a heartbeat and nodded curtly. Still, her reaction didn't escape him and guilt flooded him for his off-hand remark.

"Sorry, that came off as insensitive given that your friend…"

"No. Don't apologise. She'd have agreed with you. She was elven after all and they celebrate love better than most. Tonight we'll have a drink in her memory."

"Oh, there they are!" Dandelion gestured with a dramatic flourish towards them as soon as they crossed through the inn's door. "I couldn't start without you here."

He stood from the table and beckoned them over. Next to him were sat Ciri, Yen, Istredd and Zoltan. Priscilla was on stage, fiddling with her lute in preparation for her evening performance.

"Planning an evening of song?" Geralt tried to keep from groaning.

"Perhaps later... If you ask nicely. But no, I was just about to regale everyone with the proceedings of the former King's trial. Pris and I were the only ones in attendance out of your whole… alliance. Honestly, Geralt, after all the trouble you've all gone through, you'd think this would be a matter of some importance. Especially when the future ruler of the Empire is…" His eyes darted to the three newcomers as he stopped mid-sentence, careful not to say too much regarding Ciri's new role. "New friends?"

"Mm, friends and allies. This is Lyari Dahana, Akira Faxess and Olir Blackwind," Geralt introduced the trio. "You don't mind housing a few more guests, do you?"

No sooner had the request left his mouth that he already regretted imposing on his friend as for a few moments, Dandelion gaped like a fish suffocating out of water. By that point, probably a quarter of the inn was occupied by unpaying customers on account of their friendship. He was preparing to backtrack when Dandelion heaved a dramatic sigh.

"You know I can't refuse you, Geralt, though this really is going to be a tough squeeze. The inn is nearly at capacity with the upcoming nuptials. This morning we only had two vacant rooms left and even if those are still available, your friends will have to share."

The three off-worlders looked at each other and none of them looked pleased. The elf was the first to voice his displeasure.

"I'm not rooming with either of you," Lyari protested. "You snore like a basilisk with a sinus infection," he continued, pointing to the orc. "And she rubs against all the furniture, leaving fur on all my stuff. I just had my armour cleaned and I don't want cat hair getting on it."

"I do not snore!" The orc's face flushed a bright red.

"No, of course you don't… Snoring would be more bearable than the sounds you make."

"Ur'gora, Elf!" the orc growled after a fit of bright-faced apnea. Geralt had no idea what it meant - if it meant anything at all - but he could bet it was an insult.

"Mm, real fucking eloquent."

"I'll show you eloquence!" Olir balled his fists menacingly but before he could act on his threat, Criss got in between them.

"There's no need to pick a fight over this. We'll find a solution and you'll each get a room."

Dandelion cleared his throat and looked at her pointedly. "Not to make matters worse, but how do you intend to do that? There are still just two rooms and three of them. Unless you've some sort of magic…"

"No, no magic. I'll speak to Von Gratz about lending me one of the repurposed houses he got from Bedlam. Get them settled there." She turned to her friends. "It's not far from here. Maybe a ten-minute walk."

"Just as long as I don't have to room with either of them," Lyari agreed.

"Alright. Then I'll go see if the doctor agrees. I won't be long so maybe I'll still catch your recounting of the King's trial," she said, already heading for the door.

"Want me to come with you?"

Geralt was beside her in two steps but she looked at him with a smile and shook her head.

"There's no need. Wait here, order us a bottle of wine and save me a seat next to you, please."

With that, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips and left, so Geralt returned to Dandelion's table.

"Odd bunch those three," Zoltan commented, nodding to the door through which they had just left. "The big one reminds me of my cousin in temperament if not in size. Always itching for a fight. Come to think about it, the big quiet woman was also cracking her knuckles."

"Don't worry about them trashing the inn," Geralt guessed where he was aiming. "We've already warned them to behave."

"They'd better! I've just had the place remodelled. It's bad enough what that elf is doing to my Ruby Suite…" Dandelion stopped mid-sentence and turned to Ciri. "I mean I know he's doing important work, but he really could stand to do it in less of a mess."

"Sorry," Ciri said with a shrug. "He can't really help it. It's his process. We'll be out of your hair soon enough."

"You will?" Though he tried to mask it as surprise, a little enthusiasm shone through in his voice.

"Mm, that's why Criss brought her friends," Geralt explained. "We're leaving right after the wedding, though I think Avallac'h might be ready even earlier."

"And what are her friends, if you don't mind me asking?" Istredd cut in.

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him despite knowing exactly what he meant by his question.

"Those were skilled illusions, I'll give them that," Istredd added. "But illusions nonetheless. One can't help but wonder what hides behind them. Some sort of trollish creatures, judging by the size of them. Though," he continued, rubbing the corner of his mouth and continuing his train of thought as if he would have rathered he figured the answer by himself. "Though, they seemed sentient albeit not eloquent. Maybe some self-aware flesh golem?" His eyes lit up with interest at the prospective implications, but Yennefer smoothed a hand over his chest in a manner Geralt knew well.

"They are friends however disguised they are. Friendship is a rare commodity and it is not something we should squander for scientific curiosity."

Translation: don't insult the guests, dear, Geralt thought to himself.

"I suppose you're right, though you can hardly blame me for being curious. The last time I saw such an illusion, it hid a missing mandible."

"Mm, poor Lydia. Her illusion spoke highly of her artistic talent. It was such a waste that her affection was ill-placed on one who didn't deserve it. Had it not been so, we might have had another ally today."

"I do think you're being overly optimistic, Yenna. As you said, friendship is a rare commodity and there aren't many who would sign up for your fool's errand."

"Fool's errand?" Yennefer's voice cut like steel.

Istredd looked uneasy at Ciri, then back to Yennefer. "Friendship and affection notwithstanding, you must admit that… Let's see… How many of you are there?… Assuming the other witcher and Keira come along, thirteen? Fourteen, if I include myself? And how many elves would we be up against? At least a palace guard which I wouldn't think would be less than fifty. So maybe a five-to-one battle if I'm to round out the odds. And being elven, there's a fair chance they'd have powerful magic of their own. Not exactly encouraging if I'm being honest."

"If you find the odds lacking, you're welcome to back out at any time, darling . Or perhaps you have a better suggestion, though this plan has been devised by one of the Aen Elle… I'm sure your scientific research is much more comprehensive and offers more insight than an Elven Sage ever could."

The corners of Istredd's mouth downturned as Yennefer spoke, and yet his stubbornness prevailed.

"Far be it from me to criticise an Elven Sage, but I can't help but wonder if fighting is even required. She," he said, nodding to Ciri, "has been here for what… a few months in total? Give or take. No one has come for her so far. No one may yet come. This is a fortified city, there are guards, and the army, not to mention that Nilfgaard is just a little further south - another possible haven. It may be wiser to just stay put instead of seeking our needless deaths on foreign worlds."

"Easy for ye to speak, though all of it is comin' out of yer arse. Ye haven't seen them attack at Kaer Morhen -"

"-or what remained of a Skelligan village after they passed through," Geralt added to Zoltan's comment.

"Ye should have seen their determination. Yer a fool if ye think they've given up. It may not be tomorrow or the day after, but they'll come again. Creatures as old as them don't just give up. They bide their time, seek opportunities, and they don't forget."

"Zoltan's right. It won't matter where I am, or that there's an army at hand. They'll just come in greater numbers or wait until I'm unprotected because I can't take an army with me everywhere I go. I can't live like this. I'd rather die now on my own terms, fighting them, than spend the rest of my life running. And I understand if you disagree and want to back out." Ciri looked at each of them in turn. "None of you owe me anything. If anything, I owe each of you more than I can ever repay in a lifetime. But for better or worse, even if I have to go alone, I'm doing this."

"Ey, lass, yer really hurtin' me feelings. Ye'd actually think ol' Zoltan's a yellow-bellied coward? Hah! I've known ye since ye were a wee tike, and love ye like ye were one of me own, though a mite less after a round of Gwent…"

Ciri cracked a small smile.

"... Fact of the matter is, though I cannae speak for the rest, yer mad if ye think ye'll be going alone."

"Do I even need to say it?" Geralt asked, raising his eyebrows. "You know I'll always be there when you need me."

"Same as I." Yen nodded. "I fear if I say more, it'll get needlessly soppy and spoil the moment."

In the silence that followed, Geralt felt that tension in the air that accompanied telepathy between mother and daughter and Ciri's eyes welled up.

"And I'll accompany you as well, because what is a feat of bravery without a song composed about it."

"Dandelion…" Geralt chided.

"Now now, Geralt. I know what you mean to say, but I assure you I will not get in your way though my fighting ability could never compare to your prowess. I cannot simply be content with a second-hand recounting of the tale. Last time I crossed the Continent with you..."

"I know this is just you getting swept up in a heroic moment where everyone pledges their loyalty to the cause, but there's no need. We know you'd do whatever you can to help, but fighting isn't your forte and this time you'll have to settle for a retelling." Geralt didn't want to remind him of how his last adventure ended or of the four dead friends he had left in Vilgefortz's castle. "Besides, you know as well as I that whatever you compose will at most be inspired by reality when not completely bending it into a fairytale version. You can do that without putting yourself at risk."

Dandelion opened his mouth to protest, but the seriousness in Geralt's eyes was enough to shut him up.

"Oh, alright. I suppose Priscilla would be on your side so at this point I stand no chance…"

"None at all," Priscilla agreed, putting a light hand on his shoulder and tapping her ear in response to his questioning gaze. "A bard's hearing needs to be sharp enough to catch the slightest whisper in a crowd if she is to have material for her next ballad."

Geralt couldn't suppress a chuckle as Dandelion sighed, defeated and sat down.

"Have you told them of today's turn?" Priscilla asked, squeezing into a seat between Dandelion and Zoltan as everyone shifted to make room.

"Not yet, we were waiting for… ah, there she is! Got your friends settled or lost them along the way?" Dandelion asked Criss as she returned alone and sat at Geralt's side.

She shrugged. "A bit of both I suppose. Von Gratz gave them a house. I left them to argue over who gets what room and I'm sure they'll take a detour or two on their way back. There were plenty of street performers dotting the way and I'd be surprised if they didn't stop at least once."

"If they were locals I'd take offence at their preference for vulgar street displays when they could be enjoying our cultured selection of ballads and…"

"Think of it this way," she interrupted what threatened to turn into a tirade, "after witnessing the baser entertainment available elsewhere, they'll appreciate your art even more."

Geralt struggled to keep a straight face at her handling of the bard and decided to steer the conversation to more interesting shores.

"Did you say there was a turn of events today? Should I take that to mean that Radovid still has his head attached to his shoulders?"

"In a manner… though it's unlikely he'll have much use of it." He sighed. "But I shall start from the events of late morn…"

"I really think this is close enough," Priscilla said, clinging to Dandelion's arm.

"Nonsense. A true chronicler of our times has a duty to observe and commit this historical trial to paper in the most accurate fashion and for that to be achieved, one must be in the midst of things. Close enough that even the slightest whisper would be caught by his pristine musical ear."

"Darling, I'm more worried about catching something we hadn't bargained for… I'm sure you wouldn't want blood splatter over your silk hose, even if it is of the royal sort."

He cast a glance down at his attire and dreadfully regretted not anticipating this possibility earlier. He certainly wouldn't have chosen to wear Elihal's latest creation.

"Oh, alright. You do make a fair point."

He craned his neck over the shoulder of a particularly tall fellow to get a good view of the wooden platform erected in the middle of the square where only a few days prior mages and soldiers had decided the fate of the kingdom. Now the fate of the king would be decided by his peers.

They didn't have to wait long until the two high-backed chairs on top of the platform were occupied by the new queen and her future consort. A retinue of armed guards with fire-red capes escorted them to their seats and flanked them while scouting the crowd with eagle eyes. Some cheered but Dandelion's trained ear also heard the speckles of whispered murmurs. Striga. Monster , they said and a shiver ran down his spine. Usurper. Abomination. Heretics. His instinct spurred him to turn on his heels, grab Priscilla and flee before a riot broke out and they were caught in the midst of it, but then the murmurs died down. A red-robed Eternal Fire priest, some acolytes and guards were marching out the former king in chains. If he had been anyone else, Dandelion might have felt sorry for him, but, as wretched as he looked, he was still the same man who had chased his friends into hiding and who had his best friend's back flayed for his amusement. No, the dirt and grime that matted his hair and clothes were small compensation for all the pain he had caused, especially since it seemed like it hadn't dulled his ego. He looked left and right with steely eyes and a set jaw, seeking support from his people. The people around him partly cheered, but the sound was muted and as dull as a crowd at a Valdo Marx performance. Which is to say, not very enthusiastic or impressed.

All fell silent as the queen rose from her seat.

"People of Redania," she said, gesturing widely, "long you have all suffered the injustice of Radovid the Stern. Humans and non-humans alike were wrongfully accused under his rule and communities have been deprived of good, hard-working citizens who would and could have aided the kingdom in its fight against the Black Blight that is Nilfgaard. His rule has weakened the kingdom. It has stained history and the reputation of all Redanians as well as the followers of the Eternal Fire who had been labelled as fanatics due to his abuse. No amount of cleansing might scrub that stain clean, but let us take the first step to show that we are a righteous nation, that our faith is meant to uplift and that our justice is impartial."

True cheers swept through the masses and shook Dandelion to his core. Priscilla's hand tightened around his arm as her eyes sought a quick way out in case the Eternal Fire fanatics decided to find some heretics to burn.

"As such," the queen continued once the noise died down enough for her voice to be heard, "in a sign of good faith and as a way to repair the widening gap between Church and State I shall entrust the dispensing of justice to the Hierarch. You all shall bear witness and decide for yourselves if his judgement is fair."

The priest stepped forward, but unless Cyrus Engelkind Hemmelfart had suddenly lost 100 pounds and died his hair red, that wasn't the Hierarch.

"In his immaculate wisdom, the Hierarch has decided that all of us are equal in the holy light of the Eternal Fire and subsequently appointed me, his humble servant, Richardvan Ennart, as head of this trial." He turned to Radovid who had become red as a radish while the queen spoke. "You stand accused of besmirching the good reputation of the Church, of robbing the queen of her freedom and right to rule, of unlawfully accusing innocent citizens of heresy…"

Radovid puffed up his chest and looked to be on the verge of apoplexy.

"You charlatan! Presiding over my fate as if I were a common man! What mockery! What hypocrisy!"

"Silence!"

"I'm the king, may your Eternal Fire be damned! My crowns have paid for those oversized braziers and for the guards making sure a gust of wind or a stream of piss doesn't put it out, though you charlatans claim it can burn in perpetuity!"

Blasphemy! Blasphemy! The crowd revolted.

"I shan't stand trial before a red-painted arse-licker, a traitor and a cursed striga!"

"So you admit to the unlawful executions you're being accused of?" the priest continued, unbothered.

"Unlawful? It's my gods-given right to rule and to dispense justice as I see fit! Those monstrosities have no place in my kingdom and if you had any wits about you, you'd see it as the truth and cast them out but instead, you put them on the throne to rule over you."

"I see…" the priest drawled, perfectly playing the part of impartial judge. "We had numerous testimonies and witnesses lined up to give accounts of the ills performed at the king's behest, but given the accused's outburst and public admission, this court can come to no other conclusion than that he is guilty and unrepentant of his misdeeds. The penalty for charges as severe as these is death and though it is customary for that to be executed by beheading…" He turned to the queen. "...If our lady queen doesn't object, I would bid for the sentence to be commuted to one which would allow for the sinner's soul to be cleansed in a righteous pyre."

The crowd cheered. Loudly. More loudly than Dandelion was comfortable with as he watched the queen suppress a smile. She gloating. Though that should come as a surprise to no one. Locked in a dungeon for years when she was promised equal rule, that's bound to make anyone vengeful.

Queen Adda nodded, dignified. "Your judgement is just and the punishment fitting. It will be carried out at dusk so that the flames of his pyre will shine through the night." She turned to the deposed king. "You have a few hours until then. Make your peace, ask the gods for forgiveness and perhaps they will welcome you beyond the mists."

At this point, Dandelion grabbed Priscilla and they quickly made their way out of the crowd that was clamouring to build the pyre whilst loudly cheering the Queen's name.

"You see, the fervour that had taken over them was... unnatural. If either of you had been there, perhaps you could have confirmed my suspicions that there had been a spell put upon them."

"Doubt it. You'd have been affected as well, had that been the case," Geralt replied. "And frankly, your story isn't all that surprising."

"You're not surprised about the involvement of the Church?"

Geralt tilted his head to one side, then the other, looking thoughtfully at the bard.

"Not all that much, if I think about the sermon we heard on our way out of Novigrad this morning. Actually, it makes a lot of sense. Gives the veneer of justice, gives the crowd a show, displays the king as a heretic and those who were still reticent about the new rule fall into place. Now Adda has the support of both the followers and non-followers."

"Aren't you worried the witch hunts will start up again?" The bard looked to the mages at the table for reinforcement, but they all looked unbothered.

"They won't. Not when Nilfgaard is at the door and they need all the support they can muster. Plus, neither Adda nor Dijkstra have a bone to pick with us. In fact, they've even agreed to reinstate a court mage as a royal advisor," Yen said, unaffected.

"Really?" That was one thing he wasn't expecting. "It's not Philippa, is it?" he asked with a grimace.

The corner of Yennefer's mouth lifted slightly. There was no love lost between the two sorceresses and Philippa's haughtiness at ruling Redania from the shadows did nothing to help the relationship. The same could be said about Dijkstra after "his dear Phil" framed him and forced him into hiding after Vizimir's assassination. There was no way he was letting her past the gates… was there?

"No, Geralt. Dijkstra has had his fill of 'dear Phil' ," Yen replied to his thoughts. "It hasn't been decided yet, but I believe all parties concerned will be happy with Triss' nomination for the role."

"Makes sense. After all, she was the one who organised the mages," Geralt agreed with an internal sigh of relief.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned," Dandelion cut in, "I wouldn't trust any ruler further than I can throw them, that's to say at all in this case. I couldn't even picture myself hoisting Dijkstra without giving myself a hernia."

"We shan't need to. As Geralt aptly pointed out earlier, after the wedding we'll be out of the city and Redania at large. Even upon our return, I doubt we'd take residence in Novigrad. The stench of burnt flesh is already imprinted in the buildings and it may take years or decades for it to waft away. Though I'll admit that the thought that the last scent would be Radovid's will mitigate some of the disgust all mages will feel in this city," Yen added with a smile that struck Geralt as paradoxically both dreamy and malicious in equal amount.

"To soothe your worries," Geralt said as Dandelion made to further protest, "we'll all keep our eyes open in the next few days until the upcoming wedding."

"So you say, but soon you'll all be in your cups or," he cast a glance at Zoltan, "under a bench and then you'll be lucky if you manage to see the way to your own beds, vigilance be damned."

"Oy, would'cha lay off already? I'll find me own bed just fine! We've all been warned, and there's not one among us that can't hold their own, so how about you stop yer naggin'. If the zealots come knockin' we'll give them a hiding as we always have."

"Fine, fine ," Dandelion stood, waving him off. "And since I'm the only one of you who can't fight for shit, and has no use to you, perhaps I should stick to what I'm best at - singing!"

He turned, in his characteristic dramatic fashion and strutted to the stage, lute in hand.

"Seems we'll be getting that evening of song even without asking nicely," Geralt joked as he poured himself and Criss a drink.

"Aye, you know how he gets when he's in a tizzy. Only the sound of his own voice'll soothe 'im. Best strap in, 'cause I'll bet my beard that it'll be one ballad after another, each sappier than the one before."

True to his word, Dandelion sang as he did best, but Zoltan had been wrong about the ballads. After a handful of soulful sad songs, he gradually moved on to cheerier tunes and though Geralt made a public display out of groaning at the musical assault, he was tapping his foot under the bench. Zoltan and Ciri were the first two to leave the table in favour of dancing a jig.

"I haven't heard Zerrikanian Summer in at least three decades," Istredd said as Dandelion strummed the first chords. "Come to think about it, last I heard it was when-" He stopped mid-sentence with a meaningful glance at Yennefer.

"Mhm, that was a particularly memorable evening in an otherwise disappointing research excursion," she replied with a honeyed smile.

"For once I have to agree. Both the beauty and the magical properties of Geso crystals were greatly exaggerated. The conclave should have punished the merchants who caused us to waste our precious time in search of what proved to be a common breed of amethyst. Whoever thought those were suitable for megascope use needs to have their licence revoked because surely they must be a hack of the lowest sort. In fact, even a novice would know that a proper crystal should be at least internally flawless, if not flawless. Any inclusion can cause such a frequency distortion that…"

"Darling, not to spoil your lecture, but indeed it has been ages since we heard this play," Yen smoothly cut into his budding tirade. "How about we see if we still remember the steps to it?"

Though the mage had seemed intent on lecturing everyone on the proper quality and cut needed for perfect megascope transmission, Yen's request took precedence, so he stood and offered her his arm in an instant. Geralt leant onto an elbow and coughed to the side, hiding his smile from Yen's violet eyes. He knew too well the look and voice she used to get her way with Istredd, he had been on the receiving end of it plenty of times and he also knew the price to be paid if one disregarded her wishes. The two left the table and his eyes moved to Criss, then to the glass she was sipping from and the bottle of Fiorano. It was their second and it was nearly empty and though sometimes it felt like Dandelion had been singing for ages, he had in fact only been on the stage for an hour at most.

"You're going pretty hard on that wine."

She shrugged one shoulder and put her glass on the table.

"I don't feel like being completely sober tonight." She shook her head and forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Then I'll at least have an excuse for fucking up those dance steps." She stood and grabbed his arm. "Come, let's join the rest. Everyone's dancing and it would be a right shame to let such a lovely evening pass by us. After all, who knows how many more we'll get?"

This wasn't the time to challenge her and if she wanted to pretend she was happy, perhaps he should let her. So, after a moment's thought, he followed her without protest.

She danced and twirled around him, mixing her own steps and the ones he showed her with a casualness befitting her light intoxication. He played into it, perfectly aware of how ridiculous he must have looked trying to match the moves of something she called salsa , until he got a genuine laugh from her.

"Do you think the queen will mind if we do this instead of the traditional steps?" she asked, still giggling. "This is so much more fun than that stuffy dance."

"Don't know for sure, but I highly doubt we'd get away with it. And if I'm to be publicly flogged, I don't want the crime read out to be inappropriate ballroom manners ."

She laughed again. "Oh, could you imagine?" She took on a mock serious look, one hand on her chest and the other pointing at the ceiling. "For the unconscionable transgression of adding an extra jump and…" she feigned superstitiously spitting into her blouse, "...the Eternal fire forbid… a… gasp… twirl ! These two shall be manacled to the pillar of shame and forced to watch a proper Redanian dance until they can perform it in their sleep!"

"Hey, don't even joke about that! More absurd things have happened, so it's not out of the question. Better save all those slick moves for the Chameleon where it's safe." He twirled her once more as she laughed, then began to dance anew.

A loud whistle from the sideline interrupted a precarious move and she stumbled into his chest. They followed the sound to see her three friends cheering and stomping, watching their antics.

"Sorry. Have you gotten here long?" she asked as she led them to the table and signed the barmaid to come over.

"Nah, just arrived. Made a few stops along the way." Lyari winked.

"Already?" Criss laughed.

"Blondie is just braggin'. Tried his hand with a girl or five but came up short," Olir gleefully explained.

"Well, the night's just starting. These girls are a tougher nut to crack than I expected but that just means I'll have to try harder." Lyari winked then scouted the room for his next target while Akira just rolled her eyes and asked the girl on staff for a bottle of their finest liquor.

"And another bottle of Fiorano," Criss added as she emptied the previous one into her glass and Geralt's. The genuine mirth that Geralt had won through dancing was gone and now that gloomy expression had once more settled on her features.

"Hey, that chatty friend of yours has quite the voice," Lyari remarked as Dandelion eased into a new string of ballads that would get the patrons to sit and refill their tankards. A wise strategy for an innkeeper, Geralt mused on his friend's business acumen.

"He's not quite on the level of an elven bard, but he doesn't sound half bad," he continued.

"Don't let him hear you say that or we'll never hear the end of it. And truth be told, he's one of the best bards of this generation… and the prior one, if I'm honest," Geralt added after sifting through memories of the past century.

Their liquor arrived and soon all the glasses were filled. Akira was the first to raise hers and the rest followed, merrily clinking them together.

"To friends!" Lyari said.

"To friends," the rest replied.

She drank deeply from her cup - perhaps too deeply - and looked at her friends, trying to plaster on a smile while her mind was somewhere else. Deep in the abyss with Ila. She should have checked the notice board more often. She should have seen that contract. Had she tried to contact her? Surely she had. She shook her head. No, there were no messages left for her. But maybe if she hadn't been so absorbed… If she had visited Idris more often, if she had enlisted, if she had been the healer that one time… If, if, if… Pointless. She had to forget about it.

She poured another glass and mindlessly downed it. She filled it up again and took the glass by the stem and twisted it, making the wine slosh and spill over. Like blood. She shook off the thought and looked at her friends, envying their joy. None of them was mourning and she felt alone in her sorrow. Lyari was trying to sweet-talk a blonde with a generous cleavage - and looking to be succeeding by the way she was leaning towards him and laughing. Olir was fighting his way through a whole roasted pheasant and a keg of beer. Not exactly the pairing she would have chosen, but de gustibus non disputandum. And Akira seemed to have befriended both Ciri and Bea, showing them her dagger party trick.

Was it their age? They all had decades and some centuries on her. Had they become so accustomed to losing friends over the years that they just… didn't feel it? Would she become jaded like that? Should she? It certainly would help not to fall apart over every loss. But then what's even the point?

A hand grasped her thigh under the table pulling her from her spiralling thoughts.

"You alright?" Geralt frowned as he looked from her drink to her.

"Perfectly fine," she lied. "How about we dance again?"

She made to stand but her knees buckled and she sat back down with a thud.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen. How about I get you upstairs instead?"

"Mhm," she hummed defeated.

Geralt wrapped an arm around her back, hoisting her up with ease and letting her lean on him for support as she barely managed to put one foot in front of the other. The rest of the inn was a blur, shapes weaving in and out of her field of view, unrecognizable. Her toes collided with the first step. She blinked the fog out of her eyes and tried to straighten herself for the ascent, but after the first two steps, she was abruptly lifted into Geralt's arms.

"Easier this way," he said as he climbed with his usual ease.

"Mmm," she hummed again, unable to form words.

Her cheek rested against his collarbone and his scent flooded her like a welcome distraction. She couldn't even fucking stand and all her thoughts and sorrow were more poignant than ever. She might as well try to fuck them away if drinking and dancing didn't make a dent. Her lips pressed to his neck as one hand caressed his nape. He made that little pleased hum she liked as she worked her way up to his ear, but it was short-lived. He shifted her in his arms to open the door to their room and pulled away from her lips. Even as he placed her on the bed, he avoided her attempts at further kisses and moved away to shut the door.

"Come back," she mumbled. Her hands tugged at her shirt, fumbling with the laces then foregoing them completely and trying to pull it over her head. "Why won't this damn thing come off?" she groaned. "It's suffocatingly hot in these clothes."

"Wait, let me help you before you rip it off and regret it in the morning. Elihal is too busy these days to mend anything else."

Large hands stopped her misguided attempts to undress, their electric touch so familiar and pleasant. Boots were pulled off her feet, then she closed her eyes and let herself sink into the mattress, shifting her position to help him as he did away with all the bothersome clothing that refused to cooperate with her own fingers. As soon as he had undressed her, he moved away again, this time to crack open a window.

"Better?" he asked with a rueful smile.

The evening's cool air touched her skin and she shivered, gooseflesh forming on all exposed skin.

"Guess not," he answered his own question and made to close the window.

"No," she stopped him. "Leave it and come here. I want you." She turned onto her stomach, trying to give him a seductive look, but only succeeding in making herself nauseous with the sudden shift of perspective.

"Mhm, I bet," he chuckled as he undressed. "In the words of your mother, you're drunk as a skunk. You have no idea what you want, but if I were to venture a guess, I'd say you want a good cry."

"Cry?" her voice broke on the simple word.

"Yeah. Your friend died. You haven't had a chance to mourn her, though you've been drinking about as much as a Skelligan at a wake," he huffed, arranging his clothes next to hers on a chair before getting into bed beside her and drawing the covers over them both.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her nape.

"I'm fine. Really. People die. I want to…" Forget. "Celebrate life, like you said," she told him, kicking off the covers and turning to face him.

She pushed him back and got on top of him. Her hands slipped downwards and her mouth pressed over his, trying to part his lips. For a moment he gave into her aggressive kiss, becoming pliant under her and letting her hands fumble with his breeches and, when they wouldn't come off, stroke him over the fabric. But though his body replied as it always did, he still stopped her.

"No," he said, breaking the kiss. "We're not doing this now. You're three sheets to the wind, barely have any idea what's around you."

"Oh, come now," she insisted. "I'm perfectly aware of what's under me. And I said I want to… celebrate."

"Love," he said, pulling away. "This is the third time you've lied to me tonight. I understand not wanting to mourn in public and I've let you pretend, but now we're alone. You don't need to put on a brave face for me. You don't need to pretend that you're happy or unaffected. Or in the mood for sex." He gently clasped her wrists and tucked her hands against her chest, shifting her off him. "I'm sorry I said that stupid thing about celebrating life. It really was a dumb suggestion."

"No, it was…"

"It was dumb," he cut her off. After a long pause, he continued. "If someone had told me to celebrate life right after Regis, Milva, Cahir and Angoulême died, I'd have punched them… or worse."

"It's not…" she broke off. "It's not the right time. No one needs… I can't fuck up… Ciri needs… my friends need… Fuck, I'm drunk!"

"People will always need something. What about what you need?"

The question lingered unanswered in the darkness of the bedroom.

"I know what it's like to feel like you don't have the time to grieve. For years, it felt that way. My friends were gone, but Ciri still needed me… Stopping for that felt…"

"Selfish?"

"I meant to say onerous, but yeah, selfish works. Too much was happening. The emperor meant to kill us, then the Lodge made their plans for Ciri and then Rivia happened… Then… There was always something else. No time was the right time and besides, who the fuck needs to see a teary-eyed witcher?" He sighed. "You remember that night when you told me you'd come back to help Ciri?"

She nodded against his chest.

"That night, it all came back to me. The guilt. The grief. It was my fault they died. To this day, I have no idea why they came along to help me. Cahir might have done it for Ciri, and Angoulême might have done it out of gratitude, but Regis and Milva… They had nothing to gain." Even through her drunken haze, she could read the grief on his features and when he continued, she understood how deep it went. "Milva learnt she was pregnant along the way. She lost her child because of my foolishness. And Regis… he said it might have happened all the same, but maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe they'd all be alive if I hadn't let them follow me… That was all I could think about that night. How I shouldn't have let them come. How I shouldn't let you come either, with all your idealistic talk of plans and purpose, you'd surely get yourself killed, thinking it's some noble sacrifice."

"Hey," she chided, slapping his chest, but he continued unbothered.

"Point was, for the first time in five years, I didn't have an excuse, there was no imminent crisis that needed to be averted, no one there to judge me for being weak, and you were a poignant reminder, so… that night I grieved until both the whiskey and the tears dried up."

He threw her an expectant look and when she didn't say anything, the corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile.

"What?"

"I just told you I cried in your kitchen."

"So?"

He shrugged with the same wry smile. "Nothing. Thought you'd laugh."

"I don't… I'd never… It's not…"

"I know," he silenced her barely coherent mumbling. "I'd never either."

He wrapped her tighter to his chest and pressed a kiss to her hair and just like that, as his warm arms held her, tears were free to flow with no judgment cast on her for shedding them. Her friend was gone and there was no undoing it. He held her in silence until the tears dried and she was so exhausted that she just fell asleep.

A/N: This chapter had been half-written for a while, but I got stuck on the most important part... the trial 😅 Then I changed the ending a few times because it just didn't work for me. Sorry it took so long and I really wish I could write faster, but sadly this is the state of things. The next two chapters should contain the royal wedding. I can't even estimate when the next update will be because my life is a bit of a mess right now and putting more pressure on meeting a deadline will just make things worse, but rest assured that I'm still writing. I've been thinking of posting shorter chapters because I know not everyone has time to read a 7-8k chapter, but so far I've decided against it because I fear it will seem like nothing happens in some chapters. If you guys have opinions, feel free to let me know.

Thank you to all those who have left comments, I really appreciate it 💖 As I appreciate all those who keep reading after so long, because some of you have been here since the start 💖 Hope you all have a great week (month? 😅)!

(If there will be any announcements regarding the story, I'll put them in the end notes of the last chapter.)