'The devil take it,' cursed Coen. 'We've turned out to be right idiots, there's no two ways about it, eh, Vesemir, and you-
'Silence,' growled the old witcher. 'Not a word.'
It was Eskel's behaviour which was most unlikely; he got up, approached the enchantress, bent down low, took her hand and kissed it respectfully. She swiftly withdrew her hand. Not so as to demonstrate her anger and annoyance but to break the pleasant, piercing vibration triggered by the witcher's touch. Eskel emanated powerfully. More powerfully than Geralt.
'Triss,' he said, rubbing the hideous scar on his cheek with embarrassment, 'help us. We ask you. Help us, Triss.'
The enchantress looked him in the eye and pursed her lips. 'With what? What am I to help you with, Eskel?'
Eskel rubbed his cheek again, looked at Geralt. The white-haired witcher bowed his head, hiding his eyes behind his hand. Vesemir cleared his throat loudly.
At that moment, the door creaked open and Ciri entered the hall. Vesemir's hawking changed into something like a wheeze, a loud indrawn breath. Lambert opened his mouth. Triss suppressed a laugh.
Ciri, her hair cut and styled, was walking towards them with tiny steps, carefully holding up a dark-blue dress – shortened and adjusted, and still showing the signs of having been carried in a saddle-bag. Another present from the enchantress gleamed around the girl's neck – a little black viper made of lacquered leather with a ruby eye and gold clasp.
Ciri stopped in front of Vesemir. Not quite knowing what to do with her hands, she planted her thumbs behind her belt.
'I cannot train today,' she recited in the utter silence, slowly and emphatically, 'for I am… I am…'
She looked at the enchantress. Triss winked at her, smirking like a rascal well pleased with his mischief, and moved her lips to prompt the memorised lines.
'Indisposed!' ended Ciri loudly and proudly, turning her nose up almost to the ceiling.
Vesemir hawked again. But Eskel, dear Eskel, kept his head and once more behaved as was fitting.
'Of course,' he said casually, smiling. 'We understand and clearly we will postpone your exercises until your indisposition has passed. We will also cut the theory short and, if you feel unwell, we will put it aside for the time being, too. If you need any medication or-'
'I'll take care of that,' Triss cut in just as casually.
'Aha…' Only now did Ciri blush a little – she looked at the old witcher. 'Uncle Vesemir, I've asked Triss… that is, Miss Merigold, to… that is… Well, to stay here with us. For longer. For a long time. But Triss said you have to agree forsooth. Uncle Vesemir! Say yes!'
'I agree…' Vesemir wheezed out. 'Of course, I agree…'
'We are very happy.' Only now did Geralt take his hand from his forehead. 'We are extremely pleased, Triss.'
The enchantress nodded slightly towards him and innocently fluttered her eyelashes, winding a chestnut lock around her finger. Geralt's face seemed almost graven from stone.
'You behaved very properly and politely, Ciri,' he said, 'offering Miss Merigold our ongoing hospitality in Kaer Morhen. I am proud of you.'
Ciri reddened and smiled broadly. The enchantress gave her the next pre-arranged sign.
'And now,' said the girl, turning her nose up even higher, 'I will leave you alone because you no doubt wish to talk over various important matters with Triss. Miss Merigold. Uncle Vesemir, gentlemen… I bid you goodbye. For the time being.'
She curtseyed gracefully then left the hall, walking up the stairs slowly and with dignity.
'Bloody hell.' Lambert broke the silence. 'To think I didn't believe that she really is a princess.'
'Have you understood, you idiots?' Vesemir cast his eye around. 'If she puts a dress on in the morning I don't want to see any exercises… Understood?'
Eskel and Coen bestowed a look which was entirely devoid of respect on the old man. Lambert snorted loudly. Geralt stared at the enchantress and the enchantress smiled back.
'Thank you,' he said. 'Thank you, Triss.'
'Conditions?' Eskel was clearly worried. 'But we've already promised to ease Ciri's training, Triss. What other conditions do you want to impose?'
'Well, maybe 'conditions' isn't a very nice phrase. So let us call it advice. I will give you three pieces of advice, and you are going to abide by each of them. If, of course, you really want me to stay and help you bring up the little one.'
'We're listening,' said Geralt. 'Go on, Triss.'
'Above all,' she began, smiling maliciously, 'Ciri's menu is to be more varied. And the secret mushrooms and mysterious greens in particular have to be limited.'
Geralt and Coen controlled their expressions wonderfully, Lambert and Eskel a little less so, Vesemir not at all. But then, she thought, looking at his comically embarrassed expression, in his days the world was a better place. Duplicity was a character flaw to he ashamed of. Sincerity did not bring shame.
'Fewer infusions of your mystery-shrouded herbs,' she continued, trying not to giggle, 'and more milk. You have goats here. Milking is no great art. You'll see, Lambert, you'll learn how to do it in no time.'
'Triss,' started Geralt, 'listen-'
'No, you listen. You haven't subjected Ciri to violent mutations, haven't touched her hormones, haven't tried any elixirs or Grasses on her. And that's to be praised. That was sensible, responsible and humane. You haven't harmed her with any of your poisons -all the more so you must not cripple her now.'
'What are you talking about?'
'The mushrooms whose secrets you guard so carefully,' she explained, 'do, indeed, keep the girl wonderfully fit and strengthen her muscles. The herbs guarantee an ideal metabolic rate and hasten her development. All this taken together and helped along by gruelling training causes certain changes in her build, in her adipose tissue. She's a woman, and as you haven't crippled her hormonal system, do not cripple her physically now. She might hold it against you later if you so ruthlessly deprive her of her
womanly… attributes. Do you understand what I'm saying?'
'And how,' muttered Lambert, brazenly eyeing Triss's breasts which strained against the fabric of her dress. Eskel cleared his throat and looked daggers at the young witcher.
'At the moment,' Geralt asked slowly, also gliding his eyes over this and that, 'you haven't noticed anything irreversible in her, I hope?'
'No.' She smiled. 'Fortunately, not. She is developing healthily and normally and is built like a young dryad – it's a pleasure to look at her. But I ask you to be moderate in using your accelerants.'
'We will,' promised Vesemir. 'Thank you for the warning, child. What else? You said three… pieces of advice.'
'Indeed. This is the second: Ciri must not be allowed to grow wild. She has to have contact with the world. With her peers. She has to be decently educated and prepared for a normal life. Let her wave her sword about for the time being. You won't turn her into a witcher without mutation anyway, but having a witcher's training won't harm her. Times are hard and dangerous; she'll be able to defend herself when necessary. Like an elf. But you must not bury her alive here, in the middle of nowhere. She has to enter normal life.'
'Her normal life went up in flames along with Cintra,' murmured Geralt, 'but regarding this, Triss, as usual you're right. We've already thought about it. In spring I'm going to take her to the Temple school. To Nenneke. To Ellander.'
'That's a very good idea and a wise decision. Nenneke is an exceptional woman and Goddess Melitele's sanctuary an exceptional place. Safe, sure, and it guarantees an appropriate education for the girl. Does Ciri know yet?'
'She does. She kicked up a fuss for a few days but finally accepted the idea. Now she is even looking forward to spring with impatience, excited by the prospect of an expedition to Temeria. She's interested in the world.'
'So was I at her age.' Triss smiled. 'And that comparison brings us dangerously close to the third piece of advice. The most important piece. And you already know what it is. Don't pull silly
faces. I'm a magician, have you forgotten? I don't know how long it took you to recognise Ciri's magical
