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    Summary

    Geralt and Ciri are on the run from Nilfgaard. After a narrow escape from certain death, they seek refuge in a Lettenhove court. Geralt is shocked to find that the viscount, (and secret leader in the resistance) is none other than the man he scorned on the mountain. But Jaskier is acting as though he’s never met him before in his life.

    Is this is the chance Geralt needs to set things right?

    -----

    He took Jaskier’s hand. There were still small lute calluses on the tips of his fingers. He clung to that. No matter what anyone said, his bard’s fingers were in his hand after all this time. It made him want to sob. To lay his head on Jaskier’s lap. To tell him he was finally ready to be honest.

    But this was not a man ready to receive his feelings or comfort him.

    There was nothing soft about Jaskier now.

    His eyes now looked like gates snapped shut. He waited for Geralt in brittle silence. The two mages held their breath. Ciri fidgeted with her dirty trousers.

    “Geralt." Ciri took his arm and squeezed it. “Geralt are you sure? We can leave. We don’t have to do this.”

    Geralt locked eyes with Jaskier.

    “No Ciri. I trust his lordship with my life and yours.”

    Language:
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