When finally light enters my room via a small hole in the wall, I get up from the bed.
And fall to the floor after one step on my bad leg.
I grumble as I stretch out the leg. My dress is in the way, but because it is already tattered, I don't have much difficulty ripping off the bottom.
With easy access to the leg, I see the strip of cloth that Geralt had tightened right below the knee. The front of it is wet with blood. I undo the cloth, wincing as it uncovers my cut. It's deeper than I have previously believed.
"Great," I mutter, "Stupid branch. And stupid rock."
I scooch backwards until I can reach the cup of water next to my bed. Taking it, I take liberty in pouring it directly on the wound, trying to clean it. After I run out of water, I set the cup aside and pick up the cloth I ripped off from the dress.
I wince at its condition. The cloth is marred with dirt, and I really didn't want to press it to an open wound. Flipping it, I see that the inside is much cleaner. I redo the tie at my leg, baring my teeth as it burns.
When I'm done, I grin. "Good as new."
Climbing up to my feet, I test putting some weight on the leg. It's definitely unhappy, but so was I for the past year. It'll have to deal with it.
I practice walking around my room while covering up the limp. Once I'm satisfied enough, I leave my quarters, but not before snatching my thick cloak. I remember the way Eskel led me down last night, and retrace back the steps to the dining hall, hoping to find someone there.
I hear people talk as I walk in, though they stop once they hear the door open. I spot Eskel and Coen eating at a table.
Eskel looks me up and down as I stride in. "Why's your dress like that?"
I blink at him. "It was in the way."
He frowns. "So you ripped it off?"
I don't answer, and instead ask, "Where's Geralt?"
"The little princess is already missing her protector." Coen scowls. "How about you stop leeching off of him, yeah?"
I harden my jaw but let no emotion show on my face. Be indifferent. Be indifferent. Be indifferent. Even though, he is right. It seems I haven't been careful enough, and I've leaned too much on Geralt's support. That will have to end.
"I didn't ask for your commentary. I asked you where he is," I say, calmly. Geralt would be proud of the emotionless tone I used.
Coen opens his mouth, but Eskel cuts him off, "He's in the alchemy room, with Vesemir."
I nod as a thank you. Before leaving, I briefly consider eating breakfast. I hadn't eaten dinner last night either. I push that thought aside when I feel the anxiety in my gut, knowing I wouldn't be able to stomach any food right now. Some time later, I decide.
Besides, I don't want to sit anywhere near Coen and eat breakfast with him.
As I head out of the dining hall, I realize I have no idea where the alchemy room is, but I'm not willing to ask.
Closing the dining hall door behind me, I view my options. I know the stairs to my right lead to the quarters, and the door in front of me is the entrance of Kaer Morhen. I don't know where the left hall would take me. Usually, I would be curious enough to explore, but today, I'm far too tired.
I decide to leave the building and get some fresh air.
Pushing open the heavy, large door, I step into the snow and take deep breath in as fresh cold air enters my lungs. I let the door close behind me as I trudge towards the stable, figuring that Roach wouldn't mind a visit.
YOU ARE READING
To Trust a Witcher
Fiksi PenggemarAfter nearly a year on the run, Princess Cirilla of Cintra has finally found Geralt of Rivia. Now, they are on their way to Kaer Morhen, where Geralt and the rest of the Witchers will train Ciri to the best of their ability. But Ciri's past keeps co...