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    Summary

    When Yennefer reaches the stairs outside there’s no trace of Jaskier; no footsteps in the snow. Nothing but his lute, abandoned on the first step. At a loss, she picks it up, the wood warm and heavy in her arms.

    There are no dancers in the ballroom when she returns. No sign of Geralt. A small man in a servant’s uniform bustles up to her.

    “Thank all the gods he left the lute!” he announces. “We shall send searchers from house to house, in every town in all the land, for whosoever can play the lute is the man you danced with, and he shall be your husband!”

    Yennefer stares at him for a long time, until he starts to squirm under her gaze. “First of all,” she says, “we weren’t dancing, we were arguing. Second of all, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Third of all, I already know who I was arguing with, and I have absolutely no intention of marrying the idiot.”

    When you’re caught in a fairytale, the only way to get free is to find a happy ending.

    Language:
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