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“Alright, so tell me again why we're in Kovir?”
Eskel sighed, trying to fight back the rising suspicion that this may be one of the worst ideas he's ever had. But he needed all lines of his life to match up, the stray ends brought together to make a solid string. And Rose certainly was an end that yet to be paired with any of others in his life. Starting with Cerissa would be both the easiest and most difficult, he reasoned. The marchioness turned Griffon witcher had been told the same things he had as novice: certain schools were better left avoided.
It seemed cliché to tell himself that Rose was different than other Cat school witchers, since there always seemed to be an exception to every so called rule. And yet he glanced back over his shoulder at the woman who huffed in her saddle, puffing her cheeks impatiently when he didn't respond. The most difficult hurdle in his mind would be Cerissa's apprentice, a young witcher named Kuba who was rarely more than a few steps away from her. Certainly he had his own reservations when his partner set herself on training him, and even more long nights debating with himself whether to try to talk her out of putting the child through the Trial of Grasses.
It was Rose's reaction to the now teen that Eskel worried the most over. He hadn't said anything of the child to Rose since he underwent the changes nearly a year ago, it wasn't his place to. It was an expected reaction if she got angry, most would. Most were like him and taken at a young age to be made what they were. But while he had fond memories of playing pranks with Geralt as novices on any unlucky enough to be in the area, her upbringing wasn't even spotted with light like his was. From what she was willing to tell him, Rose's training was especially difficult- more pressure put on her to be nearly perfect. She was a girl, that was a fault.
And she paid for that mistake every day.
Maybe it would be better to come up with an excuse. Maybe find something else for her to do while he checked in with Cerissa and her company. No, he reasoned to himself, it was better that all parts of his life came together.
“Meeting my partner.”
“Partner?” Rose quirked an eyebrow.
He sighed, “Girlfriend.”
Her lips pursed in amusement before they split into a wide grin, “You mean someone willingly puts up with you?”
“Other than you and my brothers, surprisingly yeah,” he shook his head, pulling at the reins to slow Scorpion when the horse picked up his pace after going through the gates that greeted every visitor to Enna. “She's a Griffin witcher and a marchioness. Her name's Cerissa.”
“Hold on, hold on,” Rose huffed, coming up to ride beside him, “You mean you don't just have a girlfriend, but you know yet another female witcher and from a different school? You said I was the only one you knew!”
“Two actually. Her best friend is from Bear.”
She scowled, shifting restlessly. “And I didn't know about this until now why?”
“There's...a big something that comes with Cerissa.”
“Besides her having noble title and money?”
“She has an apprentice,” he sighed heavily.
“Okay, and?”
“He's...” he stopped himself, debating how best to say it.
“Not all there? Missing a few fingers? Daft as a doornail?”
He frowned, shaking his head. “Please don't be angry with either of us.”
Recognition made Rose pale for a moment, her breath catch in her throat. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Rose watched Eskel debate how best to say what she already knew. That would explain the tension in his voice since they arrived in Kovir. That would explain why he'd been carefully picking over his words or why he had kept this large part of his life from someone who thought they were close.
“How? Why?” She challenged, her voice barely above a whisper. “And you let it happen?!”
“It wasn't my decision.”
“But you know better!” She very nearly screamed, “You knew what could happen!”
“So did she,” he finally opened his eyes again, gritting his teeth from the effort of keeping his voice even. “But you should know better than anyone what not wanting to be alone feels like.”
“So she subjected a child to-” Rose stopped herself, shaking her head. “Making someone else suffer for her gain? Of all people, I didn't expect you to be okay with it.”
“Rose, it's not what you went through. Hell, it's not even close to what I went through. Yes, it was risky. Yes, he is still a child. But please, give her, us, a chance.” His smile was gentle, despite himself, “You'll see Kuba is the most spoiled novice you'll ever meet.”
The foyer felt too large and too small all at once. The portrait of the company hanging above the mantle seemed fake, the smiles too forced. A wool cloak thrown over the back of the armchair. The smell of rosemary oil faintly hanging in the air.
The twinkling of the chandelier made her crinkle her nose, the scowl on her lips feeling permanent. Despite the sword hooks on either side of the fireplace that displayed a Griffin set of swords, it felt like what she imagined a home would. The staff smiled and greeted her the same as they would anyone else as they passed, an older woman even encouraging her to instead wait in the salon where the fireplace was lit while she gathered their visitor some refreshments.
Rose was embarrassed to feel her face flush at the suggestion, mutely shaking her head and instead crossing her arms against her chest. Just a minute, he had insisted. She snorted, shifting restlessly just as she heard voices from the dining room.
“Wait. So counting Ciri, that's four witcheresses you know?”
A young woman's voice with a thick Koviri accent, properly enunciating each syllable. There was a hopeful edge of excitement to the voice, lilting slightly. An audible sigh. Rose tried not to bite at the inside of her cheeks.
Just another disappointment.
“Seems so.”
“And when were you planning on telling me?”
“Well, did you want me to just throw in a random stranger while we were dealing with the demon you had crossed? While you were in Toussaint with Geralt, maybe? Or was it while dealing with Amriel's sister bent on getting revenge on us? Or what about while we were training-
“I get it,” she grumbled. “Sheesh. What bit you in the arse?”
“Sorry,” she could almost picture him pinching the bridge of his nose as he forced a deep breath. “It's better if you two just met.”
The woman holding his hand when they walked into the parlor was much smaller than Rose would have imagined. A slender build and only coming up to just below Eskel's shoulder, her only visible scar was a thin line along her jaw. Her green-yellow eyes sparkled, face warm despite her palor, but she froze in her tracks when she saw Rose.
“Cerissa,” Eskel sighed, tightening his grip on her hand.“I know, she's Cat, but-”
Cerissa took a deep breath, shaking her head. “You trust her. You wouldn't have brought her here otherwise.”
Rose scowled. That easy. Just a few words from someone else and a lifetime of rumors was ignored. No, Rose corrected to herself with a silent snort, not ignored. More accurately saved for later judgement. She saw the way the younger witcher assessed her, how she gripped Eskel's hand a little tighter. Feet planted. Breathing slowed. He was the trusted one here, not her.
It never would be her.
There the sound of quick footsteps, and a boy came to a clumsy stop at the top fo the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet in his excitement. Breathless, his own green-yellow eyes sparkled. “I know, I know. You say to wait until you call me, but I heard a new voice and-” he stopped, suddenly when he looked at Rose, “Who's this?”
“Old friend of mine,” Eskel provided before either witcheress could say anything. “Cerissa, Kuba, this is Rose.”
“So...” Rose sighed, rolling her shoulders in the moment of silence that followed. “Does he snore loudly or what?”
“Cute kid,” Rose noted once the three retreated to the relative privacy of Cerissa's study.
The walls were lined with cases of books in various conditions, any space not occupied by a bookshelf instead decorated with either a weapon or recreations of trophies. Convincing ones, Rose noted, as she carefully inspected one of what looked like a forktail in a mock attempt to calm herself. Hands barely trembling at her side, her jaw was clenched so tightly her cheeks ached.
This was wrong, and yet this woman shooed off the boy as if she was reminding any other noble child to return to his studies instead. She had smiled even as the boy huffed, planting his feet firmly and only moving when she quirked an eyebrow. His nervous gulp was visible and he retreated quickly as he had come. There was warmth, Rose admitted to herself, in Cerissa's voice when she spoke to the boy, a soft glow to her eyes. Something inside the younger witcheress came alive when he was around.
“Kuba?” Cerissa's smile was soft as she sank into her armchair, setting another piece of wood on the fire. “He's everything to me.”
“So...”
“How'd he come under my care?” She stirred the brew over the fire carefully, frowning when the mixture darkened after several moments. “He found me.”
“Found you?”
Cerissa nodded, “Mhm. Tells me he heard rumors of a witcher in town and came looking for me. He wanted to know if the legends were true.”
“So you proved him right.”
“Cerissa has never made him do anything against his will,” Eskel corrected, seeing the corners of Cerissa's eyes wrinkle. He gave both witcheresses an even look, sighing as he leaned against the edge of Cerissa's desk.
“Grasses being the only exception,” Cerissa muttered.
“Can you blame him?!” Rose spun to face the younger witcheress, glaring at her.
“I told him when I took him in what I was planning. Olwen told him. Eskel told him. He had every chance to leave,” Cerissa shook her head, falling still. “Even the night before, even as I was making sure I had all the ingredients and everything was set up correctly, I asked him one more time if he wanted to back out. Told him it was okay. Told him I wouldn't be mad. That he would still be my son.”
“You asked a child to make that choice.”
“I asked him as an equal. I'm not raising a pet or some yuppie noble child.” Cerissa nearly growled. “I'm raising a witcher.” She closed her eyes for several moments, forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, “Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. I knew this choice would bring opposition.”
“You think-”
“Let her finish, Rose,” Eskel interjected, shaking his head.
“I understand if you are mad. Hell, I understand if this is only time we speak and you leave tonight. That's fine. I only ask you don't take that anger out on him,” Cerissa sighed, “Kuba is damned proud of what he is and each little milestone he reaches. He has a lifetime to learn the stigma that comes with what he is- at least let him think older witchers are proud of him.”
“Fine,” Rose huffed. “Wasn't planning on being mad at the kid anyway, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.”
“So, how old is she?” Rose asked from where she leaned against the handrail of the back porch, watching Cerissa review sword drills with Kuba.
“A little more than thirty, give or take a year if I remember right.”
Rose blinked, frowning, and tore her attention away from how Cerissa gently kicked Kuba's feet into better placement to look at Eskel. He watched the two with a soft smile of his own, eyes narrowed and assessing each instruction that was barely a whisper from this far away.
“Come again?” Rose nearly laughed. Eskel only shrugged, his smile growing a fraction more pronounced. “So let me run this by you and see if I'm following along.”
“Shoot.”
“You have a second witcher hideout where you hang out for months at a time, play house with your girlfriend and her apprentice. And she's that much younger than you?”
“First, it's Cerissa's home, it wasn't my place to say anything. Second, it's only half a century.”
“That's basically craddle robbing! If this were back then, you'd still be training her! Fifty years of things she hasn't seen or done!”
His bark-like laugh filled the yard, making Cerissa pause to look over at them. “And I'll be with her when she does,” he calmed himself, lowering his voice again.
“Sheesh, this girl mean that much to you?”
“Get a good look at her hand?”
“Noticed a steel band, but not really. Why?”
“Try to look closely next time,” he sighed, before standing and stretching. “That'll be your answer.”