Iris's new memory seemed to be about a family dinner. A middle-aged man sat at the head seat at the table, with a middle-aged woman and a young man to his left, and Iris and Olgierd to his right.
On the table were several silver candlesticks, a roast suckling pig, fresh grapes, fluffy white bread and cheese of an attractive color. Lann even saw a bottle of expensive wine from Toussaint.
Obviously, the host carefully prepared this dinner.
Seeing the dazzling array of dishes on the table, Kolgrim rubbed his stomach. "Do we need to repair this memory? With so many things, how do we know where to put them?"
Lann looked around and soon found an oil painting hanging on the wall.
Calling everyone to come closer, the portrait showed the same dinner scene.
Kolgrim frowned and looked around. "Is there a specialist painter in this house? Was this dinner so important to them that they needed to paint it?"
Lann shook his head. "This painting was probably not painted but was manifested directly from Iris's nightmares. This indicates that something happened at this dinner that she did not wish to see, leaving her with a deeper memory. If we restore the dinner scene based on this painting, we should be able to repair this memory."
"The candles." Letho said suddenly. "The candles on the table are different from those in the painting."
Lann nodded, and everyone turned to see that none of the candles on the table were lit.
As the candles on the table were lit, the people at the table began to move again.
...
The wood in the fireplace burned slowly, spreading warmth throughout the dining room.
Even though it should have been a cheerful family dinner, the atmosphere in the place was tense, the expressions of the diners were cold.
Iris looked at her husband, who had an apathetic expression, and her parents, who were frowning, and tried to lighten the mood: "Father, mother, I'm really happy that you can come to see me."
The middle-aged man looked at his son-in-law next to his daughter. Since they sat down, there hadn't been even the slightest exchange of glances between them.
The middle-aged woman cast a reproachful glance at her husband and son-in-law, then looked worriedly at Iris. "Are you okay, dear? You look pale… I feel like something is not right."
Iris wore a long black skirt and painted a thick black eye shadow. She was very charming under the light of the fire. But this black dress made her look even paler, as if she had just recovered from a serious illness.
"I'm fine. If there's anything wrong, it's that I'm too happy today." Iris said sincerely. "But why didn't grandpa and grandma come? I miss them a lot too."
Hearing his wife's question, Olgierd's expression suddenly turned into undisguised impatience, even shaking his head and looking away.
Iris's mother saw all this, and she seemed to want to say something, but she looked at the smile on her daughter's face and held back.
But the young man sitting next to her didn't have any scruples. Seeing Olgierd's attitude, he smiled sarcastically and said: "The old people don't appreciate the kind of road to get here. It's long and winding… and full of mud everywhere!"
Olgierd, hearing this, turned his gaze towards Iris's family. "You don't want to see me, do you?"
The young man's face froze, as if he didn't expect Olgierd to speak so directly.
Iris's father let out a deep snort at the young man, giving him a warning look to shut up.
Olgierd seemed to have opened Pandora's box and asked about the objects on the table. "What are these things that made you have to come along that long and winding road?"
Iris's brother looked at his parents and saw that they had no intention of speaking, so he explained: "We brought some of Iris's favorite things, these are her combs and her favorite dolls."
On the table was a white jade comb and a wrist adorned with silver threads and pearls, which looked expensive compared to Iris's current somewhat plain appearance.
"In addition, we also brought you a gift, Olgierd." Iris's brother pointed to a document.
Seeing the document, a smile of joy appeared on Iris's face, while Olgierd showed greater impatience.
"A bank document." Olgierd recognized it at a glance.
Iris's mother seemed unable to contain herself any longer, she placed her hand on her daughter's and said to Olgierd: "We have settled the debt of the von Everec family, we bought the debt so that our family will not lose respect in public."
Olgierd's expression suddenly became serene. Without showing emotion, he stood up, took the document and, as he walked towards the fireplace, said: "'Dad' and 'Mom' still remember me, how touching."
There was no warmth or sarcasm in his words, only calm. He glanced briefly at the people at the table and tossed the bank document into the fire in the fireplace.
Iris's mother jumped up, but Olgierd seemed not to notice her and strode out of the dining room.
"Olgierd…" Iris called out to him, trying to get him to come back, but her tone was full of hesitation.
"Did you see him? I warned you before the wedding." Iris's mother scolded her daughter before Olgierd walked away, or she deliberately wanted her son-in-law to hear it.
"That's his true nature. He's a mediocre person who associates with bandits and criminals! Aren't you afraid of living under the same roof with that kind of brutality? Go back home, Iris, before it's too late."
Iris looked at her mother sadly, shook her head, and looked toward the door where Olgierd had left.
...
The movements on the table stopped and the door Olgierd had exited through opened again, revealing a black figure with a curved sword.
Lann silently drew the sword Aerondight. "Every time we see a memory, an enemy appears… I'm already losing patience."
Letho also took out his silver sword. "I agree."
The golden and silver sword light slashed in arcs towards the black figure. This enemy was not only human-shaped, but his strength was also at the level of an ordinary warrior, being knocked down by both of them instantly.
With a bang, the door that had just closed opened again and before a new shadow crossed it, it was pierced in the head by a crossbow arrow.
As the shadow faded, Kiyan slung his crossbow back on. "I don't like this house either, let's hurry up."
Outside the door was a staircase leading to the second floor. Everyone climbed up the stairs and came to the bedroom.
The image of Iris in the memory was lying on the bed, with a bewildered expression. Meanwhile, Olgierd was washing his hands in a wooden bowl, with an uneasy expression.
Using the witcher's senses, they found a bloody towel and dipped it into the bowl. The memory in front of them began to move again.
...
Iris was wearing only a black silk robe, which looked like pajamas. The robe was open all the way to above her abdomen, leaving a large portion of her skin exposed.
Her skin was so pale that it seemed almost unnatural. The light from the fire in the fireplace enveloped her like a doll, giving her an air of touching fragility.
"What time is it…? Olgierd, haven't you gone to sleep yet?" Iris tossed and turned in bed, rubbing her eyes in frustration. Her normally sweet voice now sounded a little hoarse.
It was already late at night. Iris had managed to get some sleep, but when she woke up she discovered that her husband was still awake.
Olgierd turned his back. "It's very late. Go back to sleep."
Iris looked at her husband's back thoughtfully. "You have been reading all night again... What is that on your hand? Is it blood? Are you injured?"
Iris spoke urgently, about to get out of bed.
Olgierd quickly wiped his hands with the towel and changed the subject.
"It's ink. I just knocked over an inkwell while writing a letter. I'm thinking of going to Oxenfurt in a few days. Would you like to come with me?"
Iris was immediately distracted. Ever since they moved into the mansion, she had hardly gone out.
"Sure! That sounds great! A trip would do us both good."
Seeing his wife's expression suddenly brighten, an unmistakable smile appeared on Olgierd's impassive face, and his gaze became gentler.
"Go to sleep soon, rest well." He said quietly. "I'm very tired."
"But I can't sleep right now." Iris replied, climbing out of bed and approaching her husband with a hint of flirtation. "How about I start painting? I want to finish that portrait I promised you."
Olgierd was stunned, and before he had a chance to speak, he was pulled to the second bedroom that they had converted into a studio by his wife.
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