Witchers of Camelot

A Court Lady

It's been weeks since Ciri's invitation to the keep. Apparently, her bravery at the forest managed to impress the king that he himself invited her to stay as an honored guest. The first few days were fun. Drinking, sharing stories, the parties and the dance. It all reminded her of all the joys she had when she was young. 

But after the first week, the revelry slowly turned into a drag. At first, she thought of sneaking away in the darkness of the night but ended up deciding to go against it. Having her new found friends wonder at her disappearance wasn't something she wanted to do. Neither was insulting this new king's hospitality.

She had just gone back from her morning run. As she entered the keep, Ciri was greeted by the two gatekeepers.

'Back from your morning run so quickly, my lady. I tell you, not even the best knights can finish the training route that quickly'.

'That's why you have to train harder', jested Ciri. When she first came to the training grounds, she was greeted by smirks and glares. Even in this world, prejudice was still a constant battle she fought against. And it was an easy battle at that. Especially, after beating the biggest and meanest of the bunch. 

Ciri wished them a good day before entering the keep.  When she entered her room, a warm bath was already waiting for her. Scented oils rowed the tables and a fresh set of jerkins was already by the bed. 

The people at court now knew her long enough to know most of her wants. The first time they left her a dress, she politely refused, and instead dawn her hunting garments, bloody as they were. Many of them jeered at the apparent impoliteness of their guest but brushed it off as being a peasant. The next time, she managed to catch the maid who prepared her room and told her of Ciri's preference on being battle ready. And so, dress were replaced with a simple jerkins and comfortable pants. 

She ran of to the kitchen next where she found Tristan, Percyval, Lancelot and a few other knights already having their breakfasts. 

'Morning, Ciri', greeted Percyval. 

'Morning lads', she greeted back. 'Isn't it a bit too early for ale'.

The men laughed. 'Says the the woman who downed Bors in a drinking match'. 

After the first night, the knights seemed to have grown warmer to Ciri after having a few drinks with them. It seems like killing a demon earns you the respect of the king while emptying a barrel earns you the people's. Strangely enough, it wasn't really that different to Kaer Morhen.

She sat beside them and Talia, one of the kitchen hand, handed her some cold meat, cheese and a cup of water to push them down. 'Thanks, Talia', she said before ripping the meat with her hands and chewing on it.

'So, what're you gonna be doing today?' asked Percival.

'Sword training. Might even teach your boys some tricks'. Some of the men who heard him howled in approval.

Lancelot, however, gave him a stare of boredom. 'Come on. All you do is sword training. We get it. You can fight. What about doing something else?'

'Like what? Visiting a brothel?' Percival spoke a bit louder than he had intended and everyone snickered. 

Lancelot glared at his comrade. 'Shut up, Percy. May I remind you who's name they call out for every night in those brothels. I'll give you a hint. It's not mine'. He then gave Percival a mischievous smile. 

'Well, anyway. Why not join us instead? We're going hunting in the mountains. I'm pretty sure that'll be more exciting than fighting with straw dummies. You are a huntress after all, are you not?'