Istredd pulled the skull closer to himself and stroked it. His hand, to Geralt’s dismay, did not even twitch.

‘Does that, in your opinion, give you any rights?’

‘Only one. The right to draw a few conclusions.’

‘Ah,’ the sorcerer said slowly. ‘Very well. As you wish. She made love with me this morning. Draw your own conclusions, you have the right. I already have.’

The silence lasted a long time. Geralt desperately searched for words. He found none. None at all.

‘This conversation is pointless,’ he finally said, getting up, angry at himself, because it sounded blunt and stupid. ‘I’m going.’

‘Go to hell,’ Istredd said, equally bluntly, not looking at him.

V

When she entered he was lying on the bed fully dressed, with his hands under his head.

He pretended to be looking at the ceiling. He looked at her.

Yennefer slowly closed the door behind her. She was ravishing.

How ravishing she is, he thought. Everything about her is ravishing. And menacing. Those colours of hers; that contrast of black and white. Beauty and menace. Her raven-black, natural curls. Her cheekbones, pronounced, emphasising a wrinkle, which her smile–if she deigned to smile–created beside her mouth, wonderfully narrow and pale beneath her lipstick. Her eyebrows, wonderfully irregular, when she washed off the kohl that outlined them during the day. Her nose, exquisitely too long. Her delicate hands, wonderfully nervous, restless and adroit. Her waist, willowy and slender, emphasised by an excessively tightened belt. Slim legs, setting in motion the flowing shapes of her black skirt. Ravishing.

She sat down at the table without a word, resting her chin on clasped hands.

‘Very well, let’s begin,’ she said. ‘This growing, dramatic silence is too banal for me. Let’s sort this out. Get out of bed and stop staring at the ceiling looking upset. The situation is idiotic enough and there’s no point making it any more idiotic. Get up, I said.’

He got up obediently, without hesitation, and sat astride the stool opposite her. She did not avoid his gaze. He might have expected that.

‘As I said, let’s sort it out and sort it out quickly. In order not to put you in an awkward situation, I’ll answer any questions at once. You don’t even have to ask them. Yes, it’s true that when I came with you to Aedd Gynvael I was coming to meet Istredd and I knew I would go to bed with him. I didn’t expect it to come out, that you’d boast about it to each other. I know how you feel now and I’m sorry about that. But no, I don’t feel guilty.’

He said nothing.

Yennefer shook her head, her shining, black locks cascading from her shoulders.

‘Geralt, say something.’

‘He…’ The Witcher cleared his throat, ‘he calls you Yenna.’

‘Yes,’ she said, not lowering her eyes, ‘and I call him Val. It’s his first name. Istredd is a nickname. I’ve known him for years. He’s very dear to me. Don’t look at me like that. You’re also dear to me. And that’s the whole problem.’