Of Things Unseen (Geralt of Rivia Fan Fiction)

Prologue Cont.

Geralt pulled Dareceria's chair out for her and waited for her to sit down before returning to his seat. This left them with Zephyrina's empty chair between them.

"Is Jaskier having fun with Zephyrina?" Darceria asked as she picked up her chalice. She kept her voice low and quiet so that only the witcher could hear her.

She knew the answer to the question. She could hear Zephyrina's joyful laughter as Jaskier spun her out and then pulled her back into his arms. Darceria just wanted an excuse to talk to Geralt.

"I would assume so." He answered just as quietly as she had spoken. "She seemed hesitant to accept his offer earlier."

"She's cautious." Darceria placed her chalice on to the table then put her hands in her lap. "All her life, men have thrown themselves at her only for her wealth or for her appearances. It's taken it's toll on her."

"Wealth?" Geralt turned his head to the redhead, who nodded.

"Her father was a lord in Verden. He passed away three years ago. That's when our paths crossed."

"Where have you been since the collapse of Romavek?" He inquired.

"Here and there." She softly shrugged her shoulders. "Keeping myself busy as much as I can."

"You could be anywhere on the Continent. Your abilities would be far more useful somewhere like Cintra or Kaedwen. Why here? Winiford?"

"Because this is where Zephyrina is." Darceria forced a smile on to her lips. "This is where she is happy. I can't leave her."

Geralt hummed in response, turning his head back to watch Jaskier and Zephyrina dance.

Darceria gave up trying to talk to the witcher. She wasn't interested in talk about herself. So instead, she tuned in to different conversations happening around the room. When one bored her, she'd move to another. Her fingers brushed along the stem to her chalice as she listened.

Her stomach tightened when she heard the familiar uneven gait of the assassin. He was making his way across the room towards them. Darceria acted quickly but calmly. She stood from her chair with her chalice in hand and moved into Zephyrina's seat.

"He's in here." She brought her chalice to her lips and took a small sip.

"Where?"

"He's coming towards us. Listen to his movements. He's favoring his right foot so there's going to be a slight limp in his gait."

While she spoke to him, Geralt's eyes flickered around in search of the man. He spotted someone matching Darceria's description. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a big beard that came half way down his chest. His dark hair was tied back to stay out of his face.

"Do you see him?" Darceria asked.

"Yes, and we've made eye contact." Geralt sighed out as he looked away from the man.

"Just pretend to talk to me." Darceria crosses her knees and turned a little towards the witcher.

"About what?"

"Anything."

She could sense the man's presence. He was growing closer and his eyes were boring holes into the side of her head.

"How long do you plan on staying in town?" Darceria asked him, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'm leaving in the morning." Geralt found himself gazing at her, studying her features as much as he could. There was the faintest scar beneath her left eye that stretched for about three inches across her cheek.