The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Forty

Jaskier stared up at the beautiful golden-haired children depicted on the canvas. "So what do you think happened there?" he mused. "How do you fall in love with your sister? I mean, I love Robin, but it could never be like that between us."

"I don't know," Geralt confessed. He looked at Jaskier. "Did you hear anything about who might have cursed Adda?"

"No," Jaskier said. "Wouldn't it be the same person who murdered her?"

"Not necessarily. And the curse is what I need to know about. Unless I know exactly which one was used, I won't know how to cure her."

Jaskier sighed. "So nothing I overheard was useful, was it? I should have stayed and tried to find out more."

Geralt clapped him on the shoulder. "You did what you could, Jaskier. It's not an ideal situation. And it's highly unlikely that you would have found someone discussing every last detail of what they did. If it was that easy, Triss wouldn't need us to solve the mystery. She'd just need me to cure the striga."

"Are you actually trying to make me feel better?" Jaskier followed Geralt to the stairs. "I knew you had a soft spot for me."

"Don't get too excited about it," Geralt huffed. "This way."

They entered a large chamber that had clearly once been rather opulent. "This looks like a princess' room," Jaskier observed, looking around.

As he and Geralt started to investigate the remaining contents, he asked, "Do you think Foltest cursed her?"

"Maybe," he answered. "Robin didn't see any indication of it, but that doesn't mean he didn't. She only read him for a moment, and that kind of magic is a tricky thing. If he wasn't thinking of it, she wouldn't have found it."

Geralt hesitated by the bed. The sheets on it were tattered, but still partially intact.

He inhaled and caught a scent that he recognized.

Jaskier, meanwhile, had bent to study a music box that had two dancing figures on top of it. He started to pull on the various knobs, stopping when a little drawer on the bottom of the box popped open.

"Geralt, come here."

The witcher came over and looked at the packet of letters Jaskier had discovered. Jaskier untied the ribbon holding them together and unfolded them.

"They're from Queen Sancia," he announced. "Foltest and Adda's mother. I am great at noble family trees, by the way, in case that's ever a skill you need."

"What do the letters say?" Geralt prompted him.

"She insists that their affair must not continue, basically. She knew." Jaskier paused. "Do you think she cursed her own children, Geralt?"

"No, I don't." He gestured to the bed. "That lord who was with Foltest when we spoke to him earlier. Ostrit."

"Oh, the reasonable fellow," Jaskier remembered.

"His scent is all over her sheets," Geralt revealed.

"Oh my. Well. Perhaps not quite as reasonable as he appeared, then."

"No." Geralt turned to the bard. "How would you feel about a little deception, Jaskier?"

Jaskier's eyes lit up. "Are you suggesting that you and I pull off a caper, Geralt?"

Geralt tilted his head and gave the bard a withering look.

"I'd love to," Jaskier agreed quickly. "You can't take it back now."

Geralt shook his head. "We don't have much time. Let's go."

****

They went to see Ostrit. Geralt wasn't sure who knew that he'd been commanded to leave the kingdom, but they were going to have to take a chance. Robin and Jaskier knew what to do if they got separated. They'd made those types of plans long ago.