𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝓓𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐒 .

you forgive like a god ﹔ cruel, vengeful, beautiful.

"Trust is a luxury courts can’t afford. Someone’s trading yours for a throne." He palmed the wax shard, crushing it to dust between thumb and forefinger; black flakes drifted to the table like dead moths. "I’ll hunt the curser. Tear the spell out root and stem before --

She expected less thorns and vines. Well, weirdly fitting. She is a Rose after all.

Yes. If you ignore her half tangled in the bushes.

She's survived worse and it seems a worthy challenge to see the Duchess-

Feeling like a spy.

His medallion gave a single, sullen twitch against his chest.Geralt "End’s simple, your heart stops before the harvest moon. Slow poison through dreams, lungs fill with petals, blood turns to sap. Nilfgaardian nobles used it on rivals who wouldn’t duel. Luckily, they --

Geralt held the glass to the light, watching the wine cling like blood to crystal, then tipped it to his lips. "Speaking of things that cling too tight… Found something uglier than archespores today. In the old drainage tunnel beneath the east wing, someone carved your --

The White Wolf lowered himself into the chair opposite her, the wood groaning under his weight. He watched the ruby liquid swirl into the glasses, candlelight fracturing within it. "Reward was fair, three purses of gold and a cask of the ’71 Coronata. Vintner tried to throw --

as much as he liked to think he could find . . redemption on his own , he knew better . a light sigh , yet his hand didn't pull away . “ but i was , i . . . / am / . ” he used dettlaff , plain and simple , the fallout from that alone —

Geralt followed her into the candlelit chamber, the door closing with a soft thud behind them. He eyed the decanter, then her, and gave a single nod. "Dead and buried under the same vines it tried to claim. Burned the totem, salted the soil. Grapes’ll grow straight --