A brown cloak and gray trousers. Smooth red hair tucked inside her hood, crystal-clear green eyes, and fair cheeks dusted with freckles.
Victor thanked destiny for not destroying the beautiful image in his memories. Triss's complexion was certainly not ebony-dark, and her beauty was worthy of a goddess.
The two beauties sat on the suspended walkway with their legs dangling in the air. The sorceress said nothing, merely gazing into the dark forest, lost in thoughts Victor could not discern.
He could tell that she looked exhausted, completely unlike the energetic woman he remembered.
"Are you all right? You don't look well... Madam Royal Advisor?"
She trembled slightly, turned her head, and stared at Victor for several seconds before looking back toward the forest.
"Magic always has a price, but I'll be fine soon. Vic, I'm glad to see you again. Also... it seems you haven't heard. I'm no longer a royal advisor.
"I lost my position and my home in Vizima. They call me the witcher's mistress and the Kingslayer's whore! Perhaps I should be grateful that Keira is still alive, or they would simply call me a whore!"
The sorceress's tone was flat, but the witcher could hear the dejection beneath it.
"They... Who are 'they'? After the king's death, who had the authority to dismiss you? Baron Kimbolt or Count Maravel?"
"The nobles' assembly. The day after the assassination, the lords held a meeting in the countryside near La Valette Castle to choose a new ruler. They argued over it for several days.
"Calling it a nobles' assembly is generous. It was more like a marketplace. The matters being negotiated included, but were certainly not limited to, positions in the royal cabinet, spheres of influence, royal privileges, and so on."
"That certainly fills me with hope for the future," Victor said mockingly.
Sensing his amusement at their misfortune, Triss rolled her eyes at him.
"Several duels took place during the proceedings, and two men were poisoned. If Marshal John Natalis hadn't brought another three thousand armed soldiers north from the southern front to maintain order during the negotiations, a civil war would already have begun.
"Even then, they still failed to choose a king."
"Ah, the usual sort of meeting. Deal with the people first, then deal with the problem. Is the marshal interested in governing the country?"
"Fortunately and unfortunately, he's a soldier through and through. He's neither suited to govern a country nor interested in doing so."
"Isn't this exactly when the royal advisors are supposed to step forward?" Victor asked tactfully. "Even if your damaged reputation made it inconvenient for you to participate, Keira should at least have attended and voiced an opinion."
The sorceress shook her head and sighed.
"We weren't invited. Keira wasn't invited either. Obviously, we would support Foltest's bloodline, while the nobles intend to seize this opportunity to weaken the king's authority and influence...
"Ah, sorry! I seem to have said too much. I forgot you're a witcher. You must be bored hearing me talk about politics. Geralt hates listening to this sort of thing. Every time I bring it up, his face tightens. The other witchers aren't interested either."
"Heh, I know. Lambert complained to me about it. When you stayed at Kaer Morhen last winter, you constantly tormented them with endless political discussions!
"But you don't need to worry about me. I'm an oddity among witchers. Although I don't like involving myself in politics either, I believe politics affects everyone personally. A person may choose not to participate, but they cannot afford to remain completely ignorant."
"Hahahaha!"
Triss laughed aloud.
"You really are exactly as Geralt described you, an oddity from the School of the Wolf."
"Oh? What did he say about me?"
"He said you were a cat that sprang out of a wolves' den, or a griffin that flew out of it. Whatever you are, you're certainly no wolf."
The "cat" clearly referred to Victor's flexible mind and physical agility, while the "griffin" undoubtedly represented his overwhelmingly powerful talent with Signs.
Under Vesemir's guidance, orthodox witchers from the School of the Wolf had always been a disciplined, rule-abiding group, at least on the surface.
"I would accept that accusation if it came from Eskel or Vesemir, but Geralt? Please. Has he not done enough outrageous things himself?
"They told him not to hunt dragons. Did he listen?
"They told him not to become drinking companions with kings. Did he listen?
"They told him not to sleep with sorceresses. Did he listen to that either?"
The three consecutive questions sent Triss into peals of laughter.
Victor had struck directly at her sense of humor. She laughed until she could barely breathe, repeatedly smacking the young man with one hand.
"No wonder you get along so well with Geralt and Dandelion. The three of you share one very important trait, a viciously sarcastic sense of humor that reaches all the way to your bones!"
"I'll accept that as a compliment. Now that you're feeling better, let's discuss something serious.
"What brings our beautiful sorceress out here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, enduring the cold wind and listening to wolves howl?
"I don't believe merely losing your position as royal advisor could leave you looking so miserable and dejected. From what I know of you, politics matters to you, but politics isn't your entire life."
Triss answered irritably, "You're speaking as though you understand sorceresses. Let me tell you, Keira's desire for power isn't much stronger than mine. She prefers comfortable pleasures."
"I wasn't talking about her. I meant Philippa Eilhart.
"I know what a woman born for politics looks like. She would never abandon matters of state and travel all the way to Kaer Morhen to spend more than a month treating an amnesiac, white-haired, crippled old man.
"Unless you intend to tell me that you remained there so long because that replica four-poster oak canopy bed was so comfortable that you couldn't bear to leave it?"
Triss remained silent.
Victor did not pressure her. The two of them simply continued gazing into the dark forest.
After a while, she finally spoke.
"He isn't crippled!"
The sorceress kicked the witcher in the shin.
"And we found the Kingslayer. He really is an enormous bald man with scars. He's hiding somewhere in the forest with that villain Iorveth."
"Oh! So it is exactly as I thought."
Victor was not surprised that the secret had failed to remain hidden for long. They were all among the most capable people of their age.
"And the reason I'm here is that Geralt and I came to seek Cedric's advice. A Kayran has recently moved closer to Flotsam and begun terrorizing the area. Geralt accepted the contract to kill it, but the monster's tentacles secrete a deadly poison. I need to prepare a special antidote.
"Geralt is currently heading toward the monster's former lair. Once he arrives, he'll contact me through a magical signal so I can teleport there and collect a sample of its venom.
"So I am not sitting out here in the middle of the night, enduring the cold wind, listening to wolves howl, or looking miserable and dejected, as you claimed!"
Victor took a large bar of chocolate from his herbal satchel, broke it in half, and handed one piece to Triss.
"Relax. You've treated me well ever since we met. You've been good to Angoulême and even better to Ciri. As their brother, I'm naturally willing to repay you wherever I can.
"What you said is true, but the situation you described still isn't enough to explain why you're so unhappy."
Triss accepted the chocolate and inhaled its aroma.
The milk chocolate had been refined through miraculous alchemy. Its rich, mellow sweetness was almost lethally tempting.
She took a bite and chewed. Then, unable to restrain herself, the sorceress hurriedly stuffed the entire piece into her mouth and surrendered to the happiness chocolate brought humanity.
Several blissful minutes passed.
Triss inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.
"Fine, if you truly want to know.
"I'm afraid. I'm afraid Geralt will leave me. His memories are gradually returning. A few days ago, he asked me with no expression on his face to tell him everything about Yennefer.
"He said he wanted to know everything, even if it damaged our relationship, including the parts I had tried to hide. He demanded that I hold nothing back."
Victor's smile disappeared.
"I told him. I didn't want him to learn from someone else one day that I had deceived him.
"But now I'm terrified. I'm afraid that once he remembers everything, he'll leave without the slightest hesitation and abandon me completely!"
Victor suddenly found himself at a loss for words.
According to the memories of his previous life, Geralt had been single at the beginning of the next part of the story. When he encountered Triss again, they were reuniting after a breakup.
Could it be that once the White Wolf recovered his memories, he simply pulled on his trousers and walked away as though nothing had happened?
"Aren't you looking too far ahead? The White Wolf is deeply sentimental in my opinion. We have all witnessed everything you've done for him."
"No... You don't understand. His attitude toward me has subtly changed since that day.
"He no longer trusts me wholeheartedly. He no longer shares everything with me. He's always standing alone in some corner, thinking and trying to remember.
"I can sense his suspicion. He believes I'm still hiding something from him, something I haven't told him."
Victor reached out and patted the back of Triss's hand.
"Hey, don't get worked up. We know you have no reason to do that, but he doesn't. You have to be patient with a suspicious old man suffering from memory loss.
"And is it possible that you're simply overthinking things? Perhaps that isn't what he means at all."
"No! Take this Kayran contract, for example. He refused to listen to my advice and insists on working with Síle de Tansarville to kill the monster.
"In the past, once I warned him how dangerous Síle was, he would have refused without hesitation."
"Síle de Tansarville? Who is she?"
"A powerful and ruthless sorceress, a royal advisor at the Kaedweni court, and one of Philippa Eilhart's closest friends."
The name Síle de Tansarville meant nothing to Victor, but Triss's serious expression encouraged him to remember it.
Birds of a feather flocked together. Any friend of Philippa Eilhart was unlikely to be a simple woman.
The Kayran, however, remained vivid in his memories.
Victor had been attacked by it several years ago. He had not expected the creature to remain alive, much less move closer to the town.
Evidently, after two years, the surrounding wilderness could no longer provide enough food. The monster now needed to collect more tolls from humanity.
Triss continued rambling about the details of her life with Geralt.
To Victor, it sounded like the familiar problems of an old married couple who had spent too much time together and gradually stopped respecting each other.
Perhaps because she felt guilty about having inserted herself into Geralt's previous relationship, the red-haired Triss granted almost every request made by the white-haired Geralt.
That was not a healthy attitude for any relationship.
"May I ask what a Kaedweni royal advisor is doing in Flotsam?" Victor interrupted. "What did she use to persuade Geralt to cooperate with her? Most importantly, shouldn't all of you be pursuing the Kingslayer first?"
Triss, who had been speaking freely, suddenly fell silent.
After a moment, she bit her lower lip in frustration.
"He didn't tell me..."
"All right, Triss. I think I understand your problem.
"The way you interact with Geralt is wrong, and your attitude toward love is also wrong. You need a genuine strategist to provide crucial guidance in matters of romance!"
Emerald-green eyes stared into the blue Rinnegan.
"Little boy, you aren't about to claim that you're this genuine strategist, are you? How old are you?"
"People acquire wisdom at different stages of life, and every field has its specialists.
"In my homeland east of Zerrikania, when people praised my strength, they called me the Dragonborn. When they praised my wisdom, they called me Merlin."
Victor began inventing nonsense without the slightest guilt.
Unfortunately, Angoulême was not nearby to expose his true nature. Triss listened with a mixture of doubt and belief, her beautiful eyes gazing at the young man in search of help.
"First, you need to understand one thing. You have no reason to demean yourself. You are not a homewrecker.
"In matters of love, every relationship between two people exists independently. Cast aside that useless sense of moral guilt. There's nothing wrong with loving someone.
"Neither of your relationships with Geralt deserves condemnation. Even if there were something wrong, Geralt would be the one deserving criticism.
"The first time, Geralt and Yennefer had fallen out and were no longer together. You began a relationship with your friend's former lover. There was nothing morally reprehensible about that.
"This time is even simpler. Yennefer is dead. Are all widowers supposed to remain alone forever?"
Victor was, of course, certain that Yennefer would return.
The problem was that no one else knew that.
As soon as he completed his analysis, Triss's expression improved considerably.
"Second, love has no universal model. Don't imitate someone else's relationship.
"Perhaps you admire the way they interacted, but you are Triss Merigold. You are not a replacement for anyone. You only need to be yourself.
"Imitating Yennefer's relationship with Geralt is meaningless. It will exhaust you, and an imitation can never surpass the original in another person's heart.
"You must be the first Triss, not the second Yennefer. She is arrogant and domineering, so you should be considerate and gentle. Your differences are your greatest advantage.
"Then you do this... and that... because of this... which leads to that... In conclusion...
"Men are bastards. The harder something is to obtain, the more desperately they desire it. Therefore, you must maintain your self-respect, independence, and strength!"
Drawing from his own understanding and the pop-psychology articles he had read in his previous life, Victor served Triss bowl after bowl of inspirational platitudes.
...
It was a historic day.
That night, moved by Triss's earnest expectations, Merlin Victor answered the call.
His "Flotsam Gambit" broadened her vision and taught her new methods, laying a strong foundation for the future romantic battlefield and planting the first seed of a three-person tango.
...
The night was nearly over, though dawn had not yet arrived.
Sensing a message from the magical signal, Triss rose with shining eyes and embraced Victor.
"Geralt sent the signal. Thank you, Strategist Vic! Thanks to your help, I know what I should do next!"
The witcher placed both hands behind his back and smiled serenely.
"Good luck, my lady! Angoulême supports you.
"Most importantly, remember this. The three of you possess extraordinarily long lives. Over such a lengthy existence, each of you will occasionally leave the others for a time to pursue something you wish to do.
"Love is important, but it isn't everything. Once you can sincerely accept Yennefer's existence, no one will be able to defeat you."
Releasing Victor, Triss shook her head.
"I still find that idea difficult to understand, but I'll try.
"When you enter Flotsam, I recommend avoiding Síle whenever possible. She isn't a simple woman."
Victor placed a hand over his chest in farewell.
"I'll exercise proper judgment."
A portal burst open with a roar.
Proud, confident, and passionate, Triss Merigold stepped through the portal and disappeared.
After she was gone, the elf Cedric slowly approached.
"Perhaps you would be willing to give Seherim a similar lesson. I find your views on love quite unusual. He lost his beloved Moril only last year.
"There is only one question I would like answered. Do you sincerely believe all the principles and ideas you just used to comfort her?"
"The purpose of comforting someone is to help them feel better and give them the strength to continue moving forward. Whether I believe those things is unimportant. What matters is that Triss is willing to believe them.
"It was the same last night, when we first arrived and you spoke to Seherim. Do you sincerely believe Moril merely disappeared?"
Cedric considered the question for a moment, then extended his hand to Victor.
"You're welcome to return and speak with me anytime."
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