The Witcher: Lord of the Empire

The west wind was blowing hard, and the waves were beating against the shore with a deafening crash, sending up jets of white foam between the cracks in the rocks.

Crach adjusted his cloak, and as he stood on the balcony he stared straight ahead, knowing that at any moment the guests would arrive to greet him.

"Lord Crach." A cautious voice sounded behind Crach. "Is it true that the Lion of Cintra is coming today?"

Crach turned to look at the person who had asked him the question.

She was a simple island woman. She held a basket of shells and seemed to have interrupted her work to address her Lord. Although her posture was slightly hunched in respect, her manner of addressing him was inappropriate.

For a commoner, approaching and speaking so directly to her lord was a sign of disrespect that in other lands would have been unthinkable, even severely punished. However, here, on the islands of Skellige, the relationship between nobles and people was different: respectful, yes, but not servile.

With a small smile, Crach replied: "Why? Do you also want to meet the famous Lion of Cintra?"

"Yes, Lord Crach... I heard that he is an extremely handsome knight, and he is also very brave."

"Sailors can't satisfy you, so you start looking for handsome knights? Then you may be disappointed, our Earl Lannister has already been taken."

The woman answered nonchalantly: "Are you referring to the Princess of Cintra? I don't care, and other women don't care either. In fact, it's even better this way…"

Crach finally frowned this time. "What do you mean 'other women'?"

The woman turned around and pointed inside the castle. "The other cooks, maids, laundresses and other women in the castle who are in charge of preparing the banquet... we are all eager to see the Lion of Cintra."

Crach felt a knot in his stomach. He looked inside the castle, his beloved Kaer Trolde, and could see how the maids, in charge of preparing the banquet, were barely concentrating on their tasks, casting curious glances towards him and, more precisely, towards the balcony where he was waiting for the visitors.

He was about to loudly reprimand them when a sudden wind blew his cloak. Turning around, he saw a portal of red flames forming in the air.

The first to come out was a blond knight wearing silver-black armor, wearing a cloak made of a whole piece of griffin skin.

Following closely behind was a girl with grayish hair, wearing a white tunic and a reddish-brown deerskin belt, and a smaller griffin cloak draped over her shoulders. The young girl held on to the knight tightly.

Then three warriors with amber eyes emerged, each wearing medallions in the shape of a wolf, a viper, and a griffin. They walked unsteadily, as if they had just stepped off a ship in a storm.

They were followed by a guard with a silver sword with a lion's hilt and a female archer with a long redwood bow. Behind them, a group of forty more guards completed the escort.

The last one to come out was a sorceress with wavy black hair, wearing an obsidian necklace with a carved star.

The group of people who appeared out of thin air instantly attracted the attention of everyone in the castle, including some with curious and fiery eyes.

Crach raised his voice to reprimand his distracted servants: "Don't you see that our guests are already here? Why are you still dawdling? You know that King Bran will visit my castle soon. Do you want to entertain our king in this way?"

Seeing the lord's anger, the servants in the castle no longer dared to be disrespectful and quickly lowered their heads and quickened their movements.

Crach turned to welcome his guests, but before he could say a word, a grey gust leapt towards him, and he felt the young woman's weight push him back several steps.

"Crach, I miss you so much!" Ciri screamed. "And where are Hjalmar and Cerys? I want to see them too!"

"Hjalmar and Cerys are at sea, they will return in the evening." Crach replied, smiling fondly. "My princess, you have grown… and it seems your strength has too."

"And you, Lann." Crach turned to Lann and said with emotion: "You've changed too. Only at times like this do I remember your true age. You're barely the same age as my Hjalmar, but you've already accomplished so much…"

Faced with Crach's praise, Lann, who had finally suppressed the discomfort of the portal, finally forced a smile. "It's been a difficult journey. And that's precisely why I'm here, seeking your help."

"I'm glad you came." Crach stepped forward and patted Lann's shoulder vigorously. "I have prepared rooms for you in the castle. My butler will bring you snacks and wine so you can get some rest."

"We have a grand banquet prepared as well. Tonight, Uncle Eist and Uncle Bran will join us. There we can discuss the matters at hand."

Everything was arranged in an orderly manner, and Lann and his party naturally followed the host's wishes without any objection.

The butler and his team quickly showed up to guide the guests to their rooms.

As he followed the group, Lann noticed how Crach seemed to hesitate, wanting to approach Yennefer, but not deciding to speak. On the other hand, Geralt watched them in silence, although his expression betrayed his thoughts.

Yennefer, on the other hand, looked cold and indifferent.

The tense atmosphere of a confrontation between the past and the present was in the air.

"Child, don't look blindly, let's go." Lann took Ciri who was looking around and quickly followed the butler.

This action caused the little princess to be dissatisfied.

…

They soon separated to head to their respective rooms.

"Thank you. I want to be alone for a minute." Lann told the butler, who bowed and left the room.

Lann looked around. This bedroom is more than enough to be used as a living room. There are bookshelves and a long desk in the room, and the bed is big enough for five or six people to lie down. There is also a balcony ten steps away, on which three seabirds are standing and looking at him curiously.

Lann chuckled and patted the black magic scimitar behind him. Immediately, an emerald flame of nothingness burned on it, but it did not hurt Lann at all.

Then, a slender figure in a Gothic dress appeared. She walked slowly to Lann's side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, looking at the sea view below.

"Is this Skellige? I have only read about this place in books before."

"Yes, Iris, this is Skellige."

After getting Lann's affirmative answer, the beautiful soul in the painting couldn't help but sigh. "It's so beautiful."

From their position they can have a panoramic view of the sea.

"I understand that there are seven clans that rule together here, and that the king does not inherit the throne, but is elected by all of them, right?"

Lann nodded. "That's right. The seven clans are spread across six islands, and each one governs its own territory. The politics here are complicated... although, in a sense, it's also quite simple."

Iris nodded slowly, thinking. "What a unique country, with unique customs and a unique system."

As she spoke, she turned to look at Lann's profile, appreciating like an artist the lines of his face and the softly defined muscles. Lost in her contemplation, she said: "I suppose you didn't invite me out just to admire the scenery, did you? The princess could have joined you on that one, too."

Lann smiled, somewhat uncomfortable. "I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to paint some pictures."

"How many?" Iris asked curiously.

"Seven, one for each clan. The number may be a bit too much, this is a big project."

"As an artist, I'll enjoy it." Iris said, squinting her eyes. The dark eyeliner on her makeup gave her a charming air.

With a slight smile, which illuminated her melancholy face, she added: "But I also have a request, or rather, a need. I need to visit each of the islands to capture their essence and be able to paint something that lives up to each clan. That means you will have to take me with you on every trip."

Although Iris's smile persisted, Lann understood that she was expressing her discontent in those words.

During their stay at Kaer Morhen, Lann had left Iris confined to a portrait in the castle while he went out hunting. Then, in Brokilon, he also spent a lot of time without her, although he had introduced Iris as Ciri's painting teacher, and the little princess had accepted her naturally. However, it now seemed clear that Iris was unhappy with always being left behind.

"Sorry, Iris." Lann sincerely apologized. "The circumstances called for a lot of action, and I knew you don't enjoy violence, so I decided to leave you safe in the painting. And I thought you would like it, because you are an artist, and our promise was to give you a new life like that."

Iris smiled softly and listened to Lann patiently. Then she took a step forward, coming even closer, until only a handful of inches separated them. Though her body was ethereal, Lann could feel her veil brushing against his cheek, swaying in the sea breeze.

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