Chapter Fifty-One

361 11 0
                                    

Cintra, 1249

Calanthe engaged Geralt in small talk as the feast began. He was sitting on the queen's right, and Robin was sitting on his right.

It became clear rather quickly that Calanthe expected bloodshed before the night was over, and that she hoped Geralt would help her if it came to that. He, of course, refused, but she continued to push.

Robin watched Pavetta, who was sitting on her mother's left. She seemed skittish, and appalled at the prospect of violence. Anyone else might have assumed that she was simply delicate because she was a princess, but Robin had the nagging feeling that it was something more.

When Calanthe slyly threatened to torture Geralt, Robin's jaw set firmly. She sent a ripple of fire flaring over her fingers that Calanthe caught out of the corner of her eye. "Try it," she challenged her.

Calanthe laughed. "I seem to have angered your lovely mate, witcher," she observed.

Geralt rested his hand over Robin's and squeezed, not afraid of the fire. "Her Majesty will do as she wishes," he replied smoothly. "I'm not for turning."

"Oh, come now," Calanthe continued. "Everyone has their price. And I wager I know yours now."

She raised her eyebrows at their linked hands.

Geralt squeezed harder. Though he appeared completely nonchalant, he knew that he would break every rule he had to protect Robin. It would be an easy decision for him. But he certainly wasn't going to tell Calanthe that.

Robin calmed herself. It was much easier now. She'd actually been totally in control of the fire.

She couldn't help but notice that Geralt didn't dispute Calanthe's claim about Robin being Geralt's mate. The possessive streak he often denied having was rearing its head again, and she didn't mind a bit.

She frowned when Calanthe asked about the dwindling number of witchers in the world. It was something Geralt never brought up, and Robin assumed it brought him pain. She leaned over and kissed his cheek to comfort him as he answered. He glanced at her sideways and smiled slightly.

When the knight fought his way into the court and demanded Pavetta's hand in marriage, Geralt was instantly on edge. When the man's face was revealed, he finally realized why Calanthe had been so eager to seat him at her side.

"Witcher," she breathed, "kill it."

"No," Geralt growled.

"Whatever the price," she bargained.

"This is no monster," Geralt explained.

"I order you," she hissed.

"This knight has been cursed," Geralt persisted.

Robin's eyes stayed riveted on Pavetta, who clearly knew more than she was letting on about the unexpected intruder.

Calanthe motioned with her hand and Robin was suddenly pulled out of her seat by two guards. One of them pressed his blade to her throat, but she remained calm.

"Hey!" Jaskier shouted from his spot across the hall. "Let go of my sister!"

A look from Geralt silenced him. Robin closed her eyes and the guards' blades crumbled into dust. They let her go in shock and she stared balefully at Calanthe.

"I haven't survived ten years with a witcher because I'm helpless," she sneered.

A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, considering her slow start with her magic, but no one else needed to know that.

The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That BindDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora