“The evidence will be examined—” the instigator cut him off “—and measures taken based on it. That is what law and order decrees. The same law and order that granted you your liberty. On bail, and thus conditionally. You ought, Lord Rivia, to respect those caveats.”

“Who paid the bail?”

Ferrant de Lettenhove coldly declined to reveal the identity of the Witcher’s benefactor, bade farewell and headed towards the entrance to the court, accompanied by his servants. It was just what Dandelion had been waiting for. Scarcely had they exited the town square and entered a narrow street than he revealed everything he knew.

“It’s a genuine catalogue of unfortunate coincidences, Geralt, my dear. And unlucky incidents. And as far as the bail is concerned, it was paid for you by a certain Lytta Neyd, known to her friends as Coral, from the colour of the lipstick she uses. She’s a sorceress who works for Belohun, the local kinglet. Everybody’s racking their brains wondering why she did it. Because it was none other than she who sent you down.”

“What?”

“Listen, will you? It was Coral who informed on you. That actually didn’t surprise anyone, it’s widely known that sorcerers have it in for you. And then a bolt from the blue: the sorceress suddenly pays your bail and gets you out of the dungeon where you’d been thrown because of her. The whole city—”

“Widely known? The whole city? What are you saying, Dandelion?”

“I’m using metaphors and circumlocution. Don’t pretend you don’t know, you know me well enough. Naturally not the ‘whole city,’ and only certain well-informed people among those close to the crown.”

“And you’re one of them, I presume?”

“Correct. Ferrant is my cousin—the son of my father’s brother. I dropped in to visit him, as you would a relative. And I found out about your imbroglio. I immediately interceded for you, you can’t possibly doubt that. I vouched for your honesty. I talked about Yennefer…”

“Thank you very much.”

“Drop the sarcasm. I had to talk about her to help my cousin realise that the local witch is maligning and slandering you out of jealousy and envy. That the entire accusation is false, that you never stoop to swindle people. As a result of my intercession, Ferrant de Lettenhove, the royal instigator, a high-ranking legal executive, is now convinced of your innocence—”