Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Triss had already prepared herself for the hardship, but it was her fault for falling head over heels for the White Wolf Geralt.
However, this kind of love had yet to progress into the state of deep love, or she would be in far more bitter pain than she was at that moment. By then, she would never want to leave Geralt’s side.
This was fantasy. If you are the perfect woman in real life and could make anyone fall for you, live a rich and peaceful life, would you toss that all aside, just to be with the person that you love? This was all bullshit romance that creators have taken far too many liberties with.
Due to love, she might be able to withstand the pain, but just how long can one hold on?
As Triss returned to her senses, she saw that Geralt had stepped out to welcome her. Somehow… he was clad in elegant clothing that he disliked so much?
No matter how poor Geralt was, he was indeed handsome. He was scarred, but so what? If anything, those scars added on to his charm. With his looks, any outfit would fit him. Lavish sorceresses would love to see him in royal and elegant outfits.
Of course, Geralt was not a fan of such clothing. But in this case, it was Olivia who had asked him to put on the clothes that she designed for him. There was no way he could say no to Olivia.
This was Olivia’s area of expertise. She knew just how to convince just about anyone to play along with her extreme makeovers. If her “magic” was used on someone perfect like Geralt, it would only open the door to the divine.
As mentioned earlier, Geralt may be able to decline his sorceresses “friends,” but there was no way he could say no to his “daughters.” Whenever it came to Olivia or Cirilla, he would pamper them. So much for the White Wolf. He instead became a loyal puppy.
Nasty Olivia. One might say that she welcomed herself to the happy corner of everyone’s heart, but her own heart was dark. She manipulated everyone into obeying her will. It was like taming a pack of blood-thirsty wolves and turning them into lap pillows.
The fact that Geralt had actually dressed up to welcome Triss drove all her fatigue away. All she wanted now was to reunite with Geralt and embrace him tightly.
It was all worth it, even if she had to suffer the harsh environment of Kaer Morhen.
She did not seem to mind the broken down castle at first glance, but a keener eye could easily tell that the living conditions here was getting to her.
There’s the saying “Don’t judge a girl by her looks.” She may look like she was deeply in love with Geralt, but in reality…
As Triss was about to break down, what she saw next wholly shocked her senseless.
The inside of the old castle was nothing like how she remembered.
The first thing she noticed was the temperature. The original Kaer Morhen was like a sauna during summer and a freezer during winter, but most witchers did not return during the summer, so it did not matter.
When the witchers returned during winter, Kaer Morhen would become cluttered up and messy, although most witchers could live with it. At most, they would sweep a random corner clean before continuing on with their lives.
To the witchers, low temperature was nothing to them, so they would not freeze to death, although it spelled death for regular people. Even so, it brought them discomfort.
If witchers were already uncomfortable with the temperature, then how would the delicate sorceresses feel? On the other hand, Yennefer was born poor, so did that explain why she fared better than most?
Triss also noticed the huge marble tiles that paved the floor. What happened here? During her last visit, the place had been a mess, it was filled with dirt..
She also noticed the changes made to the rooms. They were on par with her room in Temeria, if only smaller. Of course, it was not as luxurious, but it was not lacking in aesthetics. This pleased the bourgeoisie tastes of Triss.
Sometimes, women may say that they hate money, but what they were really saying was that they hated things that are bought with money. They preferred handmade art that required effort.
Style is an example of such. Style may not always require money – one can always make do.
“The 14th heroine of the legendary hill, Triss Merigold from Maribor, I welcome you!”
Before her light and sweet voice even faded, Coën and Lambert threw flowers at Triss and Geralt.
Coën did so with a gentle smile, whereas the latter did so unwillingly as he disliked sorceresses, and his view towards the little Olivia was the same, especially since she ordered him around all day.
Triss was already stunned. She recognized everyone around, except for Cirilla and Olivia. They were all still Geralt’s family, and with Triss’ warm personality, she naturally tried to get closer to Geralt’s friends. Unfortunately for her, the youngest of them, Lambert still remained the same.
Triss then turned her attention to the living room. In the middle of it was a long table filled with food and a whole roasted turkey. Over the table was a stunning magic fire chandelier, which was what that lit the living room with warmth.
Triss gently patted the petals off her head, and then courteously greet all the witchers in the room. At last, she set her eyes upon the “pearl of the north,” Olivia, who seemed like she had become the head of Kaer Morhen.
Triss had known many beauties, and she could confidently say that both her and Yennefer were somewhere at the peak, but now that she met Olivia who was just 13 to 14 years old, she feared that the world would soon be robbed of color.