"Never expected to find you in jail, Geralt," Wayne remarked with a playful grin as they exited the prison. "The White Wolf, renowned witcher, apprehended by city guards for brawling with common folk. Lambert and Eskel would be most amused to hear of this."
Even the thick-skinned Geralt couldn't help but blush at the teasing from his colleague. He shot a glare at Jaskier, who was whistling nonchalantly, and promptly shifted the blame.
"It's Jaskier's fault," Geralt grumbled. "He caused trouble, then dragged me into a drinking session. When the aggrieved party showed up with reinforcements, he was already passed out drunk, leaving me to deal with it. Couldn't just abandon him, could I? After the scuffle, the guards arrived and arrested us both."
Wayne, unsurprised by this turn of events, glanced at Jaskier, who appeared somewhat sheepish after three days of imprisonment. Under the scrutiny of the two witchers, the bard feigned strumming an invisible lute before offering a halfhearted defense.
"It wasn't my fault, really," Jaskier protested. "Mrs. Levitz didn't expect her husband back so early. Even though I explained we were merely rehearsing an opera, the brute wouldn't listen." He paused dramatically, then added, "Who would have guessed he'd hire mercenaries to attack a bard? Barbaric, I say!"
Geralt scoffed. "If any man found his wife in bed with a minstrel, 'rehearsing opera,' he'd be considered restrained for not killing you on the spot."
Jaskier, though somewhat abashed, defended his actions. "We were creating art! Discussing opera! Philistines simply don't understand the artistic temperament."
Wayne rolled his eyes, unsurprised to learn Jaskier had once again entangled himself with a married woman. He led the pair back to Geralt's lodgings at the Boar and Parsley. After three days in jail, they were famished and devoured the tavern's fare despite its dubious quality.
Once they had eaten their fill, Wayne asked Geralt for details about the contract. "What's the situation?" he inquired. "What kind of job has Queen Calanthe tasked you with?"
Geralt shook his head. "I don't know the specifics. Yennefer and I were in Novigrad when we received an unexpected invitation from Queen Calanthe, requesting my services for a contract. It seems to involve ensuring the smooth execution of a banquet."
He glanced at Jaskier with a hint of exasperation. "Yennefer not only encouraged me to accept this royal commission but also insisted I invite you along. That's why I sent you that letter before leaving."
With a sigh, Geralt continued,
"Would you believe, upon arrival, Queen Calanthe refused to see me? She simply instructed me to show up at the castle on the morning of the banquet." Geralt sighed. "But while wandering the city, I ran into this fool, Jaskier, and well, you know the rest."
Wayne nodded, turning to Jaskier. He wondered how the bard had ended up in Cintra. His memory of the original story suggested a bard was present at the banquet, but not Jaskier, who wouldn't have even graduated from Oxenfurt Academy at this point.
Sensing Wayne's curiosity, Jaskier grinned and retrieved his lute from where the innkeeper had stashed it. He strummed a few chords before explaining, "I heard the news from a noble friend – the beautiful Princess Pavetta of Cintra is holding a betrothal feast. If a man is fortunate enough to be chosen by her, he has a good chance of becoming the next king of Cintra, ruler of this mighty land. How could I miss such a grand event?"
Geralt scoffed. "Jaskier, this isn't some ordinary noble gathering. It's a banquet at the royal palace. You won't get in without an invitation."
Undeterred, Jaskier played a Skellige tune on his lute and retorted, "Don't underestimate me, Geralt. The main guests at Princess Pavetta's feast are the sons of Skellige jarls or princes from Cintra's vassal states.
"It's a political marriage, a competition for an alliance," Jaskier declared. "I've made connections with young Skellige noblemen eager to have a bard who can play their music at the feast. If you lack an invitation, I can even smuggle you in for a taste of the banquet."
Wayne shrugged. Jaskier's charm and ability to network were undeniable, often granting him access to exclusive events. After hearing the bard's explanation, Wayne turned to Geralt and asked, "So, when is this banquet, and what's your role in all this?"
Geralt squinted, taking a swig of the tavern's cheap ale. His talent for spending was as legendary as his monster-slaying skills; in a few short months, he had already burned through most of the generous reward Wayne had given him, much of it donated to brothels across the North.
"Queen Calanthe has arranged for me to pose as Ravix, an obscure nobleman from the Free City of Cidaris," Geralt replied. "You can act as my attendant and accompany me to the feast."
As Geralt spoke, the system prompt finally chimed in Wayne's ears:
Ding! Master-level quest [Princess's Betrothal Feast] has been triggered. Accept?
Wayne, however, didn't immediately check the quest details. Instead, he surveyed the tavern's squalid surroundings with distaste. "Let's go," he declared, rising from his seat. "We need to find a more suitable lodging. This place is hardly fit for a nobleman."
.....
Wayne and his companions spent the night in more comfortable lodgings. On the day of the banquet, Jaskier rejoined the Skellige noblemen, and together they made their way into the palace through unconventional means.
Wayne and Geralt, however, entered Cintra's royal palace with their official invitations. Thanks to Wayne's insistence, they had visited the finest barber and tailor in the city, ensuring their appearance was impeccable. Even Haxo, the palace majordomo, could find no fault with their attire, merely providing them with ornate noble jackets adorned with gold-embroidered crests to signify their status.
The Royal Palace of Cintra, a grand structure built upon elven ruins, blended human architectural styles with touches of elven aesthetics. Led by Haxo, Wayne and Geralt entered the opulent banquet hall, where they were greeted by the most powerful woman in the kingdom, Queen Calanthe, seated at the head of the table.
Calanthe was a tall, striking woman. Unlike most noble ladies, she wore an elaborate armor-like gown even at this formal event. Her gaze was direct and unwavering, and her every word and gesture exuded an air of confidence and determination, befitting her reputation as the Lioness of Cintra.
Though widowed and in her thirties, Calanthe's beauty was still renowned throughout the Northern Kingdoms, attracting the attention of many suitors. But her allure was not merely physical; she was known for her courage and iron will. It was said that she ascended the throne at fourteen after her father's death and led her army to victory against Nilfgaard in the Battle of Hochebuz at fifteen, earning her the moniker "The Lioness of Cintra."
"Alas, Cintra's laws do not allow for a queen to rule alone," Wayne lamented. "A woman must marry to hold power. Even Queen Calanthe, with her strength and determination, cannot defy this tradition."
Indeed, at seventeen, Calanthe had married the handsome Duke Roegner of Ebbing, who became king in name only while Calanthe held the true reins of power. Desiring to secure the throne for her lineage, Calanthe longed for a son. However, after Princess Pavetta's birth, she suffered two miscarriages and ultimately lost the ability to bear more children.
King Roegner, seeking an heir, turned his attention to other women, threatening Calanthe's position. Not long after, he died under mysterious circumstances, leaving Calanthe's rule contested by the Council of Nobles. To maintain her power, she was forced to arrange a betrothal feast for her fifteen-year-old daughter, Princess Pavetta, to choose a new king for Cintra.
Wayne and Geralt, their minds filled with this information from Jaskier, followed Haxo to Queen Calanthe. After a brief bow, the queen dismissed her attendants and addressed Geralt, her gaze then shifting to Wayne with a hint of curiosity.
"White Wolf, I believe I invited you alone," she said. "Who is this young man accompanying you?"
Geralt, his face impassive as always, replied in his gravelly voice,
"This is my companion, Witcher Wayne," Geralt introduced. "He is a skilled witcher in his own right, possessing exceptional swordsmanship and strength."
Queen Calanthe's brow furrowed slightly as she appraised Wayne's youthful appearance, seeming to doubt his capabilities. However, she quickly dismissed her concerns and nodded at both witchers. "Two witchers? Very well, that adds an extra layer of security," she declared, gesturing towards two seats beside her. "Take those seats. After the banquet commences, you will act on my command. When I give the signal, you will intervene immediately."
Geralt, undeterred by the queen's authority, responded firmly, "We witchers have our own code of conduct and do not blindly follow orders. If your command contradicts our principles, I must respectfully decline."
Wayne, standing behind Geralt, nearly facepalmed. Only Geralt would dare to so openly defy a monarch's orders. Yet, it was precisely this unwavering adherence to his principles that made Geralt a beloved and respected figure.
Wayne, however, would have handled the situation differently. Even if he disagreed with the queen's command, he would not resort to such a blunt and confrontational approach.
.....
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