Geralt dropped to his knees at once, his knees hitting the ground in pure desperation.
"Y-Young Master! Please forgive me!" His eyes grew watery again, just like that time when he was ready to put his backside at risk. "I'm just a big-mouthed fool! I never meant to—"
Anya reflexively covered her mouth with both hands.
"Ah!" Her eyes went wide. "Oh no… Father said I'm not allowed to tell anyone about this…!"
She slowly fell to her knees as well, like a knight admitting she could no longer continue the battle.
Silvara let out a long breath.
Slow. Heavy.
In her mind, one name surfaced uninvited—
Lucian Voss.
As usual, that rotten reputation…
was dragging more trouble toward Lucas.
Healer Mae moved as well.
She knelt down on one knee.
"Please forgive the stupidity of these two commoners, Young Master." Her posture was rigid and formal.
"If necessary… I am willing to accept any punishment—"
"Stop."
"Huh?" Mae froze.
Lucas raised one hand.
Enough.
He let out a breath.
