Chapter 90: We've Had Professional Training
"They're not bad. It wasn't a waste of our effort to save their lives."
As the portal closed, Triss heard Lynn say this. "If they had asked me for that dryad, even with a subtle hint, I would have been disappointed in them and saddened by the dark side of humanity."
"But thankfully, nothing so unpleasant happened."
Lynn finished speaking in a light tone, then turned to face behind him. "Lady Eithné, they've all left. You don't need to pretend to be asleep anymore."
The dryad that the witcher had placed under a pine tree opened her eyes and jumped up, her body slightly lowered in a posture ready to strike. "How do you know my name?"
Lynn turned around, looking at the dryad with a wary expression.
"I not only know your name, but I also know that you are the physician leader of the dryads, and that you use Brokilon's magical potions, conihaela vine, and knitbone grass to treat the injured."
Perhaps due to living in the Brokilon forest year-round, dryads were even more naive than elves.
They always displayed their inner thoughts on their faces without reservation.
Just like now.
A look of confusion appeared on Eithné's delicate face.
"Have we met before? I don't remember you."
Lynn laughed heartily.
"We did indeed meet once before, but more accurately, I saw you through the perspective of someone I consider a brother."
"But there's no need to talk about that, Lady Eithné. Now you are free, you can leave. In this forest, there should be nothing that can trap you."
"Or do you need me to escort you back?"
Eithné stood still, the confusion on her face deepening. "You're letting me go? Not handing me over to your king?"
"Ha!" The young witcher laughed as if he had heard a funny joke.
"No one is my master, and no one is worthy of my service. See my eyes? These are the eyes of a witcher. I am a witcher. We have had professional training and do not pledge allegiance to kings."
Eithné seemed to want to see through Lynn.
Her gaze remained fixed on the witcher.
And Lynn didn't avoid her gaze.
After a long while, the dryad finally relaxed her defensive posture.
"From your eyes, I see no lies tainted with venom. Alright, I believe you. However, you don't need to escort me. I can have my companions come pick me up."
Eithné picked up a short flute hanging around her neck.
It didn't look like bamboo but rather the finger bone of some creature.
She blew softly once.
A sound only a witcher could hear spread far away.
From daytime until almost nightfall, some figures finally appeared in the forest.
Lynn knew they were her companions coming to pick her up.
He waved at her.
"Your companions have come for you. Go on."
"Also, please give my regards to Lady Eithné. Perhaps I will have the opportunity to visit the dryad territory in the future."
"I am not your enemy, so please don't point your dryad bows at my head then."
"Finally, my name is Lynn. Don't forget it."
...
The next day.
Lynn woke up in the soft velvet bed of his mansion in the upper district of Novigrad.
He sat up.
Beside him lay Triss, a satisfied smile on her face.
Although the sorceress was covered with a thin blanket, her beautiful figure, like a goddess in ancient Greek mythology, was still visible beneath it.
The night before, after Eithné left with her companions, Triss had used teleportation magic again to send herself and Lynn back to her house in Novigrad. Originally, Lynn had intended to take his leave first and come back the next day to collect his reward.
However, Triss had taken his hand and led him into the bathroom.
The sorceress's hand was much slenderer and softer than his.
But he was still dragged into the bathroom by her.
After all, anyone who had played the game wouldn't dislike Triss, would they?
What happened after that seemed much more natural.
The sorceress was passionate and uninhibited.
She didn't care about the constraints placed on women in this era.
As long as they liked a man, they would boldly pursue him actively, rather than passively waiting.
As for Lynn,
he was naturally not the kind of eunuch who would disappoint a woman who had taken the initiative.
And so, the two continued until very late.
Only then did Triss fall into a deep sleep, her arms around his neck.
Perhaps it was Lynn's movement of getting up that woke her.
The sorceress lazily opened her eyes.
Lynn put on his shirt and trousers and said gently to her, "Sleep a little longer, Madam. It's still very early."
"Call me Triss. That's what my friends call me." Although they had only spent a short time together, Triss had already decided that the young witcher was definitely a friend worth having.
Perhaps, more than just a friend.
She propped herself up on her elbow, and with the other hand, she gently patted the bed. "Come here, my warrior."
The witcher obediently sat back down on the bed.
The two stayed in bed for almost two full hours before getting up.
"What would you like to eat? A standard Temerian breakfast? Or a Nilfgaardian one with its cold austerity, emphasizing efficiency over taste? Or perhaps a local Novigradian breakfast with its strong petit bourgeois flavor?"
"Anything is fine with me."
"Then let's have one of each."
She waved her staff, and the pots and pans seemed to gain a will of their own, beginning to move. They were like an army following orders, each piece of cookware having its own task, busily working with high efficiency.
Soon, a large table full of fragrant breakfast dishes was freshly prepared.
The witcher was amazed by what he saw.
At the dining table, Triss elegantly used her knife and fork.
Then she frowned as she saw Lynn, like a picky child, picking out the green vegetables.
"You should eat these vegetables with the same fondness you have for meat."
Lynn didn't even lift his head. "I'm allergic to green."
Triss helplessly rubbed her forehead.
He had been so mature, reliable, and steady before, but now he was as childish as a big kid.
However, Triss could also understand Lynn.
After all, in a witcher's life, it was normal to go for several consecutive months without eating meat.
Moreover, considering the dangerous nature of a witcher's work, surviving to the ripe old age of one hundred didn't depend on green vegetables.
And due to the witcher's mutations, it really didn't matter much if he didn't have a balanced diet.
So, Triss didn't try to persuade him anymore.
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