A single drifting leaf heralded autumn as it floated across the water. It was afternoon at a lakeside pavilion in Beauclair Palace.
Lady Vivienne de Tabris, widely regarded as the most beautiful lady-in-waiting in all Toussaint, currently found herself in an exceptionally awkward and embarrassing predicament.
Her well-tailored green dress easily betrayed the slight trembling of her body. With both hands folded over her lower abdomen, she twisted a handkerchief between her fingers while swaying unsteadily, trying her best to look as though she were about to faint.
She had heard that Sir Maffaro had been caught having an affair last month. Unable to explain himself, he had promptly fainted on the spot, and Lady Maffaro had ended up forgiving him.
Vivienne hoped the woman before her might show her a similar measure of sympathy.
Unfortunately, this hateful sorceress had a heart of iron. Not only did she show no sign of pity, but her smile was becoming increasingly suggestive.
"Don't stop. Keep talking, Miss de Tabris. I'm quite interested in what you're telling me."
Yennefer of Vengerberg crossed her legs and shifted into a more comfortable position.
The sorceress wore a black-and-white trouser outfit, and her violet eyes seemed to possess a strange magic of their own, holding Vivienne's gaze firmly in place.
"You know perfectly well that, just like your esteemed Lady Fringilla, lying to someone like me is utterly pointless. I can see through every lie you tell.
"So, Vivienne, don't be evasive. Honesty is your best option.
"Tell me clearly, when you went to the lakeside to break the curse, what exactly did he do? And when he confined the curse to a particular part of your body, where precisely did he put it?
"Hmm... I can't see the slightest trace from the outside... Oh! Let me guess. Could the considerate Viscount Corion have hidden your little secret beneath your skirts?
"Unless you'd like me to strip that dress off you right here and verify it myself, letting your cute, pert little backside enjoy the wonderfully cool sensation of the breeze, you'd better tell me everything I want to know!"
Watching the tears tumble from Miss de Tabris's eyes under her relentless pressure, Yennefer felt absolutely no sympathy for the young woman.
This was barely anything at all.
There wasn't another soul anywhere near the pavilion. Even if she really did make the girl bare her backside for a moment, what difference would it make?
By now, the sorceress's interest in Victor had grown far stronger than when she had first begun her inquiries.
Initially, all she knew came from dossiers supplied by the imperial intelligence service. According to them, Victor had apparently been in contact with the missing Ciri, and the two were rumored to have some kind of sibling-like relationship.
But after investigating the matter personally, Yennefer discovered that apart from his ordinary witcher work, he was also an exceptionally skilled tournament champion and had even earned the title of Wine Viscount through his miraculous winemaking techniques.
What surprised Yennefer most, however, was what the witcher had accomplished beside the magically saturated lake.
Through some unknown method, he had resonated with a curse cast more than a decade earlier and somehow constrained it, confining its effects to a limited part of the victim's body.
Manipulating the flow of magical energy with that level of precision required an astonishing Magic Sense, yet none of the reports the intelligence service had shown her mentioned anything of the sort.
Yennefer wasn't particularly familiar with the different schools and classifications of witcher mutations, but she was certain Geralt couldn't achieve this kind of resonance.
Even she herself would have needed a long time to puzzle out how to accomplish it.
Yet this young witcher seemed to have done it almost effortlessly.
At present, Vivienne's body showed absolutely no magical reaction whatsoever.
Judging by Miss de Tabris's description of her previous condition under the curse, the mere fact that she could now stand here healthy and beautiful was practically a miracle.
So naturally, a girl this fortunate couldn't be allowed to sail through life without a single setback.
Giving her a little pressure and frustration would be good for her!
...
While the sorceress was tormenting the palace lady-in-waiting, far to the south, inside the torture chamber of Tesham Mutna...
"ROAARGH! GRAAAH! BANG! ROAARGH, GRAAAH, BANG!"
Roars and violent impacts echoed incessantly from the birdcage suspended in midair.
Angoulême twisted at the waist and spun around, severing the head of a ghoul that had tried to ambush her. Its filthy blood splattered across the channels carved into the floor.
That was the last monster.
Countless severed monster limbs lay scattered around her feet.
"Vic, is this enough?"
Using her steel sword to support herself, Angoulême panted heavily.
The slaughter had been carefully prepared in advance, with traps and potions assisting them, so the battle itself hadn't actually been particularly difficult. There had simply been too many enemies, making the physical exertion considerable.
Countless chunks of monster corpses were likewise scattered around Victor's feet, yet he still appeared perfectly composed.
He raised his head and studied the birdcage hanging overhead.
Regis inside barely resembled a human anymore.
He was a beast.
The astonishing savagery, murderous intent, and violent animal instinct radiating from him filled the entire torture chamber with an oppressive, unpleasant atmosphere.
"That should be about enough..."
The witcher nodded.
Working together, the two turned the winch and lowered the suspended birdcage.
Even after the cage touched the ground, the creature inside continued roaring.
It repeatedly hurled itself against bars as thick as a man's arm. If the special alloy hadn't completely suppressed its ability to transform, it would have dissolved into mist long ago, escaped the cage, and begun slaughtering everything around it.
Victor noticed that Angoulême looked distinctly uncomfortable.
After thinking about it for a moment, he understood why.
She had spent far more time with Regis than he had. Back during the days of their search for Ciri, the two had even risked their lives together through countless dangers.
Seeing the friendly, lovable older man reduced to something like this would naturally be difficult for her.
The witcher gestured toward the exit.
"Go upstairs and wait for us. I'll handle the rest. I'll stay here with him until he regains consciousness."
Against the background of Regis's frenzied roaring, the girl hesitated briefly before nodding and leaving.
What came next was considerably easier.
Victor respected and admired Regis, but he hadn't developed nearly as deep an emotional attachment to him.
He originally intended to draw the higher vampire's blood from behind, but no matter how he moved around the cage, the creature inside turned along with him, its bestial eyes locked firmly onto Victor.
Left with no alternative, the witcher simply stepped up to the front of the cage and thrust his sword cleanly through the bars, drawing blood through the blood groove and collecting it.
Naturally, throughout the entire process, the creature on the other end made its fury abundantly clear.
For neither the creature inside the cage nor the man outside it was the experience destined to become a pleasant memory.
Once it was over, Victor sat beside Regis with the bars of the birdcage separating them.
Closing his eyes, he calmed his mind and entered meditation.
...
The torture taking place in Tesham Mutna finally came to an end.
The one taking place in Beauclair Palace was also nearing its conclusion.
...
Autumn lacked the oppressive heat of summer, and the lakeside pavilion was particularly cool and comfortable.
Unfortunately, Miss Vivienne de Tabris was in no condition to appreciate the weather's generosity.
Her cheeks were burning red, sweat covered her entire body, and the handkerchief clutched between her fingers looked as though she were about to tear it apart.
"Relax, darling. You're stammering so badly that I'll repeat what you just told me, and you can tell me whether I've misunderstood anything."
An inscrutable smile curved Yennefer's lips while her violet eyes gleamed brightly.
"According to what you just told me, after the curse was lifted, you stood there completely naked, opened your arms, and invited him to sleep with you. But he said you were still too young and politely turned down your advances?"
Swaying on her feet, Vivienne timidly gave a tiny nod.
Yennefer studied the palace lady-in-waiting's breathtaking beauty and could scarcely believe her ears.
A young woman this beautiful and full of life, even Yennefer thought fooling around with her would probably be quite enjoyable, yet a healthy young witcher had decisively turned her down.
It made no sense whatsoever.
Could it be...
Was Victor Corion impotent?
Or did he prefer men?
Were all those records of him visiting brothels in various countries nothing more than an elaborate disguise?
That actually seemed like a remarkably plausible explanation.
It would certainly explain why Ciri, her daughter who was extraordinarily wary of men and sometimes outright disliked them, regarded Victor so differently...
"If everything you've told me is true, then you're still a virgin?" she asked casually.
Vivienne's body went limp.
This time, she really did faint.
With a quick wave of her hand, Yennefer caught her with magic before she could fall, gently floated her onto a chaise longue to rest, and let out a delighted little chuckle.
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