The Disappearance of Duny

The following morning, Wayne emerged from his luxurious hotel room in Cintra around noon. He found Geralt and Jaskier having a late breakfast at a window table in the tavern below. The bard, as always, was full of energy, chattering away at the stoic Geralt.

Wayne yawned and joined them, summoning the barmaid with a wave of his hand. She was a tall, attractive woman dressed in a revealing outfit. Recognizing Wayne as a generous patron, she quickly abandoned her other customers, greeting him with a flirtatious smile and a wink.

"Bring us a few bottles of your finest mead," Wayne requested, "and some fresh, warm honey bread from the kitchen."

As the barmaid departed, Wayne turned to Dandelion. "What were you discussing?"

Before Dandelion could respond, Geralt answered with a weary sigh. "He's heard rumors of a missing person at the Cintra palace. A large contingent of guards arrived from outside the city this morning, and now the palace and city gates are under lockdown."

Geralt, noticing Wayne's bandaged hand, asked with concern, "How's your hand? Did you injure it badly? Thanks to you, we were able to subdue Princess Pavetta quickly."

Wayne casually flexed his hand. "It's nothing serious," he assured Geralt. "Just a flesh wound. No need for formalities between us. As we agreed, we split the reward for this contract, right?" He grinned, anticipating the payout.

Geralt chuckled, relieved to see his friend unharmed. He rarely partnered with others on contracts, but this time, he was glad to have Wayne's assistance.

The barmaid arrived with the mead and warm honey bread. Wayne slipped her a couple of gold coins and a playful pat on her backside, earning a few coy smiles in return.

Dandelion reached for a bottle of mead, expertly uncorking it and taking a swig. "I'm not just spreading rumors," he said with a confident air. "Remember Baron Burt, the Cuckoo Knight? The one who defied the queen? I got this information from him. He's close to the royal family and knows all the juicy gossip."

Geralt seemed uninterested. He quickly finished a piece of honey bread, washed it down with mead, and addressed Wayne and Dandelion. "I'll be leaving Cintra soon. Yennefer is waiting for me in Novigrad, and winter is coming. I won't stay long before returning to Kaer Morhen."

Wayne raised an eyebrow and clinked his glass against Geralt's. "Leaving so soon? Don't you care about your potential Child of Surprise?" he asked, a playful smirk on his face.

Geralt finished his wine and looked at Wayne with a meaningful gaze. "Destiny will decide," he said. "I'll return in six years to see if fate has been kind to me." He paused, then added, "And if Dandelion is right, this place will soon be a hotbed of trouble. I advise you to leave Cintra as soon as possible, Wayne. Political turmoil is no place for a witcher."

After breakfast, Geralt mounted Roach and rode out of Cintra. Dandelion, always drawn to excitement, disappeared without a trace, seeking further amusement.

However, Wayne couldn't leave just yet. As someone privy to the future, he felt compelled to speak with Princess Pavetta, the bearer of Elder Blood. Whether out of concern for her well-being or a desire to influence the course of events, he had information to share. He wouldn't have to wait long; someone would seek him out soon enough.

As expected, that afternoon, while Wayne was flirting with the barmaid, a richly dressed middle-aged man arrived at the inn. The man, looking quite anxious, spotted Wayne and approached him with a respectful bow.

"Master Wayne," he inquired, "I wonder if Geralt is with you? Our esteemed Queen Calanthe requests the presence of both of you at the palace to discuss an urgent matter."

Wayne recognized the man as Haxo, the majordomo who had escorted him and Geralt to the banquet.

For Queen Calanthe to send someone of Haxo's status at such a tense time indicated a matter of great urgency.

Wayne, observing the majordomo's anxious expression, shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid Geralt left Cintra before noon. It's been half a day. I doubt you'll find him."

Haxo's disappointment was evident, but as a seasoned courtier, he maintained his composure. He bowed respectfully to Wayne. "In that case, Master Wayne, would you be willing to accompany me to the palace? This matter is of utmost importance, and I beg your forgiveness for the inconvenience."

Wayne knew what was happening but feigned ignorance. After a moment's consideration, he agreed. "Since the Queen summons me, I cannot refuse. I have no pressing engagements at the moment, so let us depart at once."

Haxo, relieved, quickly led Wayne out of the tavern. He had witnessed the young witcher's strength at the banquet and held him in high regard.

Within ten minutes, accompanied by a guard escort, they arrived at the palace. However, instead of the banquet hall, Haxo directed Wayne to Queen Calanthe's private chambers in the palace gardens.

Several figures were already waiting there: King Eist, Crach an Craite, Archdruid Mousesack, and Princess Pavetta, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

Upon seeing Wayne enter, everyone except the dazed princess nodded in greeting. After all, they owed him a debt of gratitude for his intervention at the chaotic banquet. Wayne returned their greetings and took a seat between Crach and Mousesack.

"What's going on, Crach?" Wayne asked in a low voice. "Why has the queen summoned us?"

Having shared drinks, played Gwent, and exchanged stories at the banquet, Wayne and the Skelliger had established a rapport. The straightforward Skelliger people readily befriended those they deemed strong, and Wayne had certainly proven his worth.

Crach, the red-haired prince, glanced at his uncle and then at Princess Pavetta across the table. He chuckled. "That hedgehog man, Duny, has vanished," he whispered. "The royal guards searched the entire palace high and low this morning, but there's no sign of him. No one knows where he went or how he disappeared."

A triumphant smile played on Crach's lips. Before he could continue, King Eist silenced him with a stern look. However, the king couldn't suppress the hint of satisfaction in his own eyes.

Wayne feigned surprise. He surveyed the expressions of the others, then remained silent, waiting for further developments.

After a moment, Mousesack, the old druid seated beside him, spoke up.

"Wayne," Mousesack inquired, "where is Geralt? Did he not accompany you?"

"Geralt has already left Cintra," Wayne replied. "He tends to vanish quickly when trouble arises."

Mousesack nodded with a hint of regret, then closed his eyes as if in deep contemplation.

A few minutes later, Queen Calanthe entered the chamber, her armor slightly askew and her face etched with fatigue. She offered a brief greeting and settled into a chair, downing a cup of tea in a single gulp. After scanning the room and noting Geralt's absence, she asked Wayne for his whereabouts. Upon learning that the witcher had left, a flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "last night, Pavetta's betrothed, Duny, disappeared mysteriously. The guards have searched the entire palace but found no trace of him. I have summoned you all here to hear your thoughts on the matter."

She gestured to Pavetta, prompting her daughter to recount the events of the previous night. The princess, wiping away her tears, relayed what little she knew. Having retired early, her account offered few clues. All they could ascertain was that Duny had likely vanished from the study, as an unfinished drink and a half-read book remained on his desk.

Silence filled the room as no one offered a plausible explanation. Queen Calanthe, her frustration mounting, turned to Archdruid Mousesack. "Mousesack," she said, her voice sharp, "for someone to vanish from a heavily guarded palace, whether by their own will or by force, is no small feat. As the only one among us versed in magic, what is your assessment?"

The old druid met her gaze. After a tense silence, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Calanthe," he confessed. "I've examined the study, but there are no clues, no traces of magic. It's as if he simply vanished into thin air."

"I attempted to use divination," he continued, "but Duny's fate is shrouded in shadows, full of uncertainty. I could see nothing." He paused, then added, "However, you are correct. It's highly unlikely an ordinary person could accomplish this."

Calanthe, visibly disappointed, turned to King Eist and Crach. But these were men of action, not deduction. Their skills lay in battle, not solving mysteries.

Finally, her gaze settled on Wayne. "Witcher Wayne," she asked, her voice laced with hope, "what are your thoughts on this matter?"

Wayne pretended to contemplate for a moment, then shook his head with feigned regret.

"Your Majesty," Wayne said, "I regret to inform you that I am a witcher of less than three years. While monster hunting is my forte, such a complex case is beyond my expertise."

The others looked at him in surprise. For a witcher to be so young was unusual; most were well into their fifties.

Calanthe appeared disappointed, but before she could explore other options, Princess Pavetta spoke up, her voice trembling with emotion. "Wayne," she pleaded, "you must know something. At the banquet yesterday, you said strange things to me, promising to reveal the truth later. Please, tell me now."

All eyes turned to Wayne, intrigued by this new revelation.

Unfazed, Wayne shook his head, feigning distress. "Your Highness," he said, "I initially intended to confront Master Duny and expose his lies. However, after he became your betrothed, I felt it would be inappropriate to interfere in your relationship. But now that he has disappeared, revealing the truth would be one-sided and might cause misunderstandings. Therefore, I cannot speak of it."

His cryptic response infuriated Queen Calanthe. She slammed her fist on the table and glared at him. "Wayne," she snapped, "stop being coy and speak plainly!"

"Now is the time," Calanthe commanded, her voice strained. "Whatever information you possess, speak it freely. Whether we believe it or not, it may provide valuable insight."

Wayne, a wry smile playing on his lips, replied, "Very well, Your Majesty. Before arriving in Cintra, I encountered a fellow witcher from the South. He shared a piece of news with me: over a decade ago, a coup d'état occurred in Nilfgaard. The emperor was assassinated by a usurper, and Prince Emhyr was cursed by a sorcerer, transformed into a creature resembling a hedgehog."

"A hedgehog!" gasped the crowd, beginning to grasp the implications of Wayne's words.

Wayne nodded, his expression unwavering. "My colleague had been tasked by the Nilfgaardian emperor to gather information on the former prince. According to his findings, the prince had been residing in Erlenwald."

He paused, then added, "I was also told that Prince Emhyr had an ally, a sinister sorcerer. Together, they orchestrated a chance encounter and an accident to exploit King Roegner's Law of Surprise and lift the curse on the prince."

Wayne surveyed the room, noting the varied reactions on the faces of the nobles. "Therefore," he continued, his tone hesitant, "when I met Urcheon, who claimed to be from Erlenwald, I suspected Princess Pavetta was being deceived. However, my fellow witcher has returned to Nilfgaard, and Duny has vanished. I am uncertain of the identity of this so-called sorcerer. It would be irresponsible to share such unverified information."

...

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