𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐌'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 † THE WITCHER (ORIGINAL)

𝖝. 𝔟𝔲𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔫

Very suddenly, and foolishly, Ruselm thought, the fish-head laughed.

There was a long pause as Renfri waited for the wizard to regain his breath to speak. The jaws of the fish moved as though he tried to contain the laughter but had miserably failed.

"Oh, Princess," the fish-head sounded condescending. "You can kill your guest if it pleases you. In fact, you can slaughter all of Blaviken if you so wish—I'll never leave this tower if you wait for me at the door." The wizard's next words were directed at Ruselm. "I apologize, young man, but my life is far more valuable than yours. I know secrets of kings and can accomplish feats you've only ever dreamed of. It's important that I live even if you must perish."

Renfri appeared offended. "Stregobor—"

"Don't start with me, demoness!" The fish-head continued. "I won't let you in to kill me, and I won't come out. Even if you prompted your guest to come inside of my tower, I would sooner smite him down where he stands rather than allow him a step closer. Not even Geralt can do your dirty work now, you fiend! Nobody comes in my tower. D'you hear me, Renfri? Nobody!"

"Oh fuck you, Stregobor!" Renfri shouted at the fish-head which remained impassive. "Fuck you and your fucking towers! Fuck the whole thing! Blaviken will die because of you, you coward!"

Stregobor did not answer.

Whirling around faster than a snake, Renfri turned to Ruselm and held the jeweled dagger to his throat. The flat of the blade was smooth and cool from the morning air, a sharp edge pressed tightly against his jugular as the princess considered taking his life.

Ruselm watched, helpless, as the options drifted before her sea-blue eyes. As beautiful as they were, as she was, it was hard to believe that such darkness lurked inside of her soul. He knew she had been dreadfully wronged but this... this was irredeemable. To slaughter an entire village for the sake of your own revenge? Innocent women and children? People who had nothing to do with Renfri's life?

He raised his chin almost imperceptibly, against Renfri's previous command to not move, and narrowed his eyes. Ruselm still couldn't speak, but his mind was filled with things to say.

Kill me then, Ruselm thought. Go on, do it.

Renfri was thinking hard.

Just one flick of your wrist and my artery is damaged beyond repair.

Just one moment, that's all it'll take.

Come on. Come on, already.

Fucking do it.

Renfri's arm slackened.

The knife left his throat, and her eyes became gentler than they were before. Breathing was suddenly easier for Ruselm now, like an unknown weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Coward.

"We're going to find the witcher," Renfri promised solemnly. She spoke as a woman who knew she was going to face Death. A woman who knew some of these words would be her last. In hindsight, Ruselm thought of this look in her eyes as Renfri's unspoken apology. "And we're going to see what choice he made."

SHADING HIS EYES with his hand, Civril watched the sun emerge from behind the trees. The marketplace was coming to life. Wagons and carts rumbled past and the first vendors were already filling their stalls with all manner of wares and goods to make profit off of. A hammer was banging, a cock crowing and seagulls screeched loudly overhead. Morning life had taken over the marketplace.