“To hell with destiny, oaths and irony.” Duny grimaced. “I love Pavetta and she loves me; that’s all that counts. You can’t stand in the way of our happiness.”

“I can, Duny, I can, and how.” Calanthe smiled one of her unfailing smiles. “You’re lucky I don’t want to. I have a certain debt toward you, Duny. I’d made up my mind… I ought to ask your forgiveness, but I hate doing that. So I’m giving you Pavetta and we’ll be quits. Pavetta? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

The princess shook her head eagerly.

“Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you.” Duny smiled. “You’re a wise and generous queen.”

“Of course I am. And beautiful.”

“And beautiful.”

“You can both stay in Cintra if you wish. The people here are less superstitious than the inhabitants of Maecht and adjust to things quicker. Besides, even as Urcheon you were quite pleasant. But you can’t count on having the throne just yet. I intend to reign a little longer beside the new king of Cintra. The noble Eist Tuirseach of Skellige has made me a very interesting proposition.”

“Calanthe—”

“Yes, Eist, I accept. I’ve never before listened to a confession of love while lying on the floor amidst fragments of my own throne but… How did you put it, Duny? This is all that counts and I don’t advise anyone to stand in the way of my happiness. And you, what are you staring at? I’m not as old as you think.”

“Today’s youth,” muttered Mousesack. “The apple doesn’t fall far—”

“What are you muttering, sorcerer?”

“Nothing, ma’am.”

“Good. While we’re at it, I’ve got a proposition for you, Mousesack. Pavetta’s going to need a teacher. She ought to learn how to use her gift. I like this castle, and I’d prefer it to remain standing. It might fall apart at my talented daughter’s next attack of hysteria. How about it, Druid?”

“I’m honored.”

“I think”—the queen turned her head toward the window—it’s dawn. Time to—”

She suddenly turned to where Pavetta and Duny were whispering to each other, holding hands, their foreheads all but touching.

“Duny!”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Do you hear? It’s dawn! It’s already light. And you…”

Geralt glanced at Mousesack and both started laughing.

“And why are you so happy, sorcerers? Can’t you see—?”

“We can, we can,” Geralt assured her.

“We were waiting until you saw for yourself,” snorted Mousesack. “I was wondering when you’d catch on.”

“To what?”

“That you’ve lifted the curse. It’s you who’s lifted it,” said the witcher. “The moment you said ‘I’m giving you Pavetta,’ destiny was fulfilled.”

“Exactly,” confirmed the druid.

“Oh gods,” said Duny slowly. “So, finally. Damn, I thought I’d be happier, that some sort of trumpets would play or… Force of habit. Your Majesty! Thank you. Pavetta, do you hear?”

“Mhm,” said the princess without raising her eyes.

“And so,” sighed Calanthe, looking at Geralt with tired eyes, “all’s well that ends well. Don’t you agree, witcher? The curse has been lifted, two weddings are on their way, it’ll take about a month to repair the throne-room, there are four dead, countless wounded and Rain-farn of Attre is half-dead. Let’s celebrate. Do you know, witcher, that there was a moment when I wanted to have you—”