Chapter 123: Queen Calanthe
"Come on, let's have another round! Stakes are whatever you want!"
Zoltan clutched the cards in his hand, looking eager for more. It was obvious to everyone that the dwarf was trying to find a way to return the ownership of the lute to Dandelion, too.
But the bard had clearly not yet recovered from the shock of nearly losing his beloved instrument. He simply waved a hand: "Thank you, but I do not wish to touch cards again for a while."
Zoltan pouted, offering an expression of helplessness: "Then does anyone else want to try? Arthur, fancy a hand?"
Arthur had been itching to play while watching the match. He looked at Dandelion: "I think I've mostly grasped the rules, but I unfortunately don't have a deck."
Dandelion, one hand tightly clutching his lute, used his other hand to push his deck toward Arthur, indicating he was welcome to use it.
Unfortunately, just as Arthur was rolling up his sleeves, ready to experience some cross-world entertainment, the carriage suddenly slowed down. The coachman's voice called out from the front: "Everyone, we've arrived at Cintra!"
They had been so engrossed in the game that they hadn't noticed the carriage train had already crossed the drawbridge and entered the city.
As the last of the great Northern Kingdoms, Cintra's capital naturally boasted a presence that Brugge could never match. Directly facing the city gates was a thoroughfare wide enough for ten warhorses to charge abreast. Currently, it was crowded with vendors and playful children, leaving only a few meters in the middle for carriages to pass. Along both sides of the road, shopkeepers stood under various signs, chatting and laughing with neighbors as the rattling procession passed.
A gust of wind blew by, and Arthur vaguely heard someone say, 'The little princess is definitely getting spanked this time.'
"Looks like Cintra's King is quite beloved." Arthur turned to Geralt: "Was it like this the last time you were here?"
Geralt shrugged: "Last time, before I could even look around, all my weapons were confiscated, I was pinned down in a foamy bathtub, and a knife was held to my throat."
Arthur's heart skipped a beat. Before he could ask the Witcher what he had done to deserve such treatment, Zoltan chuckled and exposed him:
"I know that story! You were invited to Princess Pavetta's birthday feast! That banquet was meant to choose a husband for the Princess, but in the end, the Queen married someone herself!"
"…That's badass!"
The Queen's conduct was difficult to summarize. Arthur struggled for a moment before managing just those two words.
"Sirs, the Queen awaits your arrival at the palace. Please mind your words shortly." A young knight leaned in from the window to caution them, then spurred his horse forward.
The carriages finally stopped at the wide plaza in front of the Royal Palace. A middle-aged man, built like a bear, stood at the top of the steps. The nameplate on his chest read [HACKSO].
"Mayor, long time no see." Geralt stepped forward and embraced the man, asking: "Why is the Queen in such a rush? No time for a bath first, this time?"
Hackso sighed: "News about the little princess reached the palace. Her Majesty the Queen is very angry. Not even the King's pleas are helping."
"If Mousesack hadn't brought more urgent news, I imagine the belt would already be snapped by now."
More urgent news…
Geralt turned back and quickly exchanged glances with Arthur and the others. They all realized that Calanthe was taking the incident orchestrated by the Verdeners quite seriously.
"Hmph, I must say, Her Highness the Princess was far too reckless this time. I understand not wanting to see Kristine, but why run off into the dryads' territory?! She is Cintra's sole heir!" Hackso continued to grumble incessantly as he led the way.
Arthur and the others were unsure of his motives, so they offered vague platitudes in response, silently praying for the stairs to end. But the steps seemed interminable.
Fortunately, Hackso soon grew breathless from the climb, unable to speak in coherent sentences.
"Your Majesty… the Princess's other traveling companions have arrived." Hackso finally reached the top, resting his hands on his knees and gulping for air before reporting to the eunuch attendant nearby.
The eunuch offered a fawning smile to the group: "Her Majesty the Queen has been waiting for you. Her Highness the Princess will surely be pleased to see you."
Arthur followed the eunuch into the palace, thinking: Ciri must have been spanked again.
Soon, his suspicion was confirmed. In the brightly lit hall, Ciri squirmed restlessly in a cushioned seat, attempting to shift her weight onto her thighs in as dignified a posture as possible. Mousesack, standing beside her, wore a look of amused helplessness.
"You met Ciri in Brokilon?" Calanthe, the de facto ruler of Cintra, sat on the throne in the center of the hall, her voice commanding and authoritative.
If Arthur had the vision of an ordinary man, he would have found the Queen's face, illuminated by candlelight, profoundly beautiful. But with the enhanced senses granted by his Elder Nordic bloodline, he easily saw past the Queen's exquisite makeup to the crow's feet around her eyes—as Ciri's grandmother, Calanthe was already past her 45th year. Though her figure was not as slender as Eithné's, she was definitely trim, which only made the throne look vast and empty, seeming to echo around her.
"Yes. When I found Ciri, she was alone. A dryad named Braenn and I discovered her at the same time." Geralt knelt on one knee and answered respectfully.
"How strange. I was told Eithné never lets any girl who enters the forest leave. That's why I dispatched Mousesack the moment I heard the news. But Mousesack reported that when he found Ciri, you had already left Brokilon." Calanthe reached out, stroking Ciri's ashen hair, her gaze fixed sharply on Arthur. Mousesack tried to speak, but the Queen silenced him with a raised hand.
Facing the Queen's intense scrutiny, Arthur answered candidly: "Because I told her not to."
Calanthe chuckled, repeating Arthur's words, though with no trace of genuine happiness: "Oh? Because you persuaded her not to?"
Her tone suddenly turned cold: "Just as you dare to remain standing in my presence now?"
Arthur frowned slightly. Before this audience, he had already stated his rank as a Knight of the Royal Seat—by convention, a Knight of the Royal Seat only needed to offer a small bow of respect when meeting a foreign monarch.
Therefore, he ignored the 'Kneel!' gesture being mouthed by a nearby attendant. Amid the worried glances of his companions, he replied:
"Yes, just as I am now defending the dignity of a Knight of the Royal Seat."
Although he didn't understand why Calanthe was pulling such a stunt, he instinctively felt that this woman, like Eithné, was a rationalist who only seemed hard-line. Her current aggression was merely a tactic to gain the upper hand in subsequent negotiations.
The attendants in the hall involuntarily held their breath. They had seen such arrogance before; the offender was immediately cut down by rushing knights. It seemed the young man before them would suffer the same fate.
But after a long wait, no footsteps sounded from behind the throne, nor did the Queen herself chastise him.
A hint of a smile finally surfaced on Calanthe's icy face: "Now I'm curious. What exactly did you do in Brokilon that could change Eithné's mind?"
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