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In the world of The Witcher, few can resist the allure of Gwent. With the conflict diffused, the jovial atmosphere of the banquet returned, and Wayne's Gwent matches against the Skellige delegation began in earnest.

As a seasoned Gwent player with countless battles under his belt, Wayne didn't resort to crushing his opponents. Having already proven his strength and courage through the drinking and arm-wrestling contests, he strategically adjusted his gameplay, often winning two out of three rounds, then cleverly losing the third. This allowed the Skelligers to experience the thrill of victory while Wayne gained experience and gold.

This approach proved successful, as the Skellige men became increasingly engrossed in the game. Many of them were future leaders of their respective clans, and Wayne knew that fostering friendships with them would be more beneficial than making enemies.

The Skelligers, despite their initial defeat, also recognized Wayne's capabilities. While the previous competitions had been humbling, they didn't diminish their respect for his strength and cunning.

In an age dominated by physical prowess, strength commanded respect. It meant wielding heavier weapons, wearing thicker armor, and striking with greater force. Wayne's display of strength had earned him a newfound camaraderie among the Skelligers.

Soon, Wayne found himself seamlessly integrated into the merry atmosphere of the Skellige delegation. They shared drinks, food, and stories, and played Gwent with gusto. Before long, they had become fast friends. Even King Eist and Crach an Craite warmed to Wayne. After all, they were not enemies, and Wayne posed no threat to Crach's ambitions. Having a powerful friend was far preferable to a formidable foe.

This turn of events disappointed the other nobles who had been observing them. They had hoped to see the Skellige delegation, their main rivals in this betrothal competition, weakened, not bolstered by a powerful ally.

However, the jovial atmosphere did not last. As Princess Pavetta, caught up in the excitement of learning Gwent from Wayne, was giggling over the card game, a knight clad in golden armor entered the banquet hall. He swiftly made his way to Queen Calanthe and whispered something in her ear.

The queen's expression darkened, and the knight, after a loud announcement, stepped aside to reveal a figure clad in full plate armor, a spiked helmet concealing his face. Urcheon of Erlenwald, the knight proclaimed himself.

His arrival immediately changed the mood of the banquet. Wayne sensed Princess Pavetta trembling beside him, her eyes fixated on the armored figure. The chaotic magical energy emanating from her intensified.

Wayne chuckled softly and offered the princess a knowing smile. As the others turned their attention to the armored newcomer, he leaned in and whispered, "Your Highness, is this the one you've been waiting for? Fate is a curious thing, wouldn't you agree? To fall in love with someone who has deceived you from the start."

Pavetta, initially focused on Urcheon, was startled by Wayne's words. She trembled slightly and looked at the handsome young man with surprise in her eyes. Wayne winked and put a finger to his lips, urging her to remain silent. "After the banquet," he whispered, "I shall reveal some truths you are not aware of. A kind and innocent soul like yourself deserves to know the truth."

With that, he turned his attention to the armored figure striding into the hall, just like everyone else.

The knight's plate armor clanged with each step, his iron boots thudding against the marble floor. He approached Queen Calanthe's throne and boomed, "Noble Queen, esteemed guests, I apologize for interrupting your grand festivities. I am Urcheon of Erlenwald, and I beg your forgiveness for arriving unannounced."

Queen Calanthe shifted in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the armored knight. After a moment, she replied, "Since you are here, consider yourself a guest. There is a seat for you at the banquet. Find it and make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty," Urcheon replied. However, instead of seeking a seat at the banquet as the queen had suggested, he clenched his gauntleted fists and struck his armored chest. "But I am not here to partake in the festivities. To avoid wasting your time and that of your esteemed guests, I will come straight to the point."

His boldness angered Queen Calanthe. "How dare you!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with indignation. "You attend my banquet and refuse to show your face to your host? Remove your helmet so you may explain yourself, or I will have the guards remove you from my sight."

A tense silence followed before Urcheon responded in a contrite tone, "Please forgive me, noble queen, and esteemed guests. My appearance cannot be revealed at this time. I have sworn a knightly oath not to remove my helmet before midnight. I beg your understanding."

His explanation was met with angry shouts from the crowd. Many believed his knightly vow was merely an excuse, and that he was hiding something sinister beneath his mask. However, Wayne noticed Princess Pavetta growing increasingly agitated, while Mousesack, the archdruid, silently cast a spell. A peculiar energy washed over the hall, causing even the crest on Wayne's jacket to vibrate slightly. Wayne's knowledge of magic was insufficient to identify the spell, but he recognized its power.

Queen Calanthe stared intently at Urcheon for a long moment. In the medieval world, a knight's oath held significant weight, and few dared break it. Finally, she nodded, granting him the opportunity to explain.

With the queen's permission, Urcheon took a deep breath and continued in a booming voice, "Fifteen years ago, your husband, King Roegner, became lost while hunting in Erlenwald. He fell from his horse and injured his leg in a remote area. Were it not for the aid of another, he would surely have perished."

Calanthe frowned. "I am aware of this incident," she replied. "If you are familiar with it, I presume you were the one who saved him."

"Indeed," Urcheon confirmed. "It was my intervention that allowed King Roegner to return to you safely."

Calanthe's expression remained neutral. "I am grateful for your assistance," she said. "Though my husband has passed, my gratitude remains. Name your reward, and I shall grant it. Fiefdom, title, wealth—anything you desire."

Urcheon looked at Queen Calanthe, who seemed to be feigning ignorance. "You know full well my aid was not without expectation," he retorted. "And you know the reward King Roegner promised me."

Queen Calanthe remained silent for a long moment, her sharp eyes fixed on Urcheon. Her dark green irises seemed to burn with an emerald fire as she finally spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"So," she began, "you found an injured man, helpless and defenseless at the bottom of a ravine. And in exchange for your assistance, you demanded a reward? Had he not agreed, you would have left him there to die, wouldn't you? Such noble conduct, befitting a knight of your stature."

Her words sparked a wave of murmurs throughout the hall. The guests looked upon Urcheon with disdain, believing a man of his character unworthy of the title of knight.

Calanthe, sensing the shift in the room's mood, pressed on, her smile growing colder. "Today, fifteen years later, you come to my banquet to claim this reward. Seeking to profit from your supposed act of chivalry?"

Her voice turned venomous. "Since you claim it was Roegner who offered this reward, then I shall send you to the afterlife to collect it from him personally. I loved my husband dearly, and the thought of you extorting a dying man fills me with disgust."

"You are as close to death now as Roegner was then," she hissed, "a lamb awaiting slaughter in my kingdom." Queen Calanthe's voice dripped with venom, her threat clear.

The temperature in the hall plummeted. The guests sensed the queen's fury, perplexed by her reaction. Even if the knight were dishonorable, it was unusual for a host to respond with such hostility towards someone seeking a reward for saving a life.

Archdruid Mousesack, privy to some of the underlying circumstances, grew increasingly concerned. He feared the stubborn queen might disregard the Law of Surprise and execute Urcheon, a blatant violation that could invite the wrath of destiny. History was replete with examples of those who defied fate and suffered tragic consequences.

In a world where gods existed, destiny was a potent force that mortals could not easily defy. As a magic practitioner who sought to understand the world's truths, Mousesack was keenly aware of this power and held deep reverence for it.

He glanced at Wayne, who seemed amused by the unfolding drama, observing the scene like a spectator at a play. Receiving no response, Mousesack turned his attention to Geralt. The two old friends exchanged a meaningful look, silently communicating their concerns. Mousesack hoped Geralt would intervene and protect Urcheon, preventing Calanthe from making a rash decision that could lead to her downfall.

Meanwhile, Geralt, bound by his agreement with Queen Calanthe, was also grappling with conflicting emotions. Without knowing the full story, he hadn't decided which side to support.

Urcheon remained unfazed by Calanthe's accusations and the whispers of the crowd. "You know full well whether you speak the truth," he countered.

Calanthe laughed scornfully. "Are you accusing me of lying?"

Urcheon did not answer directly. Instead, he declared, "You know what transpired in Erlenwald. King Roegner was saved by me, and upon returning home, he discovered that you, his beautiful queen, had given birth."

"Yes," he continued, his voice ringing with conviction, "I have waited fifteen years, and today I claim my reward. All of you have come here in vain. By the Law of Surprise, Princess Pavetta has been mine since the day she was born. This betrothal feast was a mistake from the beginning."

Urcheon's words sent shockwaves through the banquet hall. Some nobles cried out in outrage,

"Impossible! Preposterous!" exclaimed one noble.

"This is absurd!" cried another. "What proof do you have of these claims?"

Unfazed by their disbelief, Urcheon spread his arms wide. "The queen's face is proof enough. This matter is no lie."

The guests turned their attention to Queen Calanthe. Indeed, her usually confident and composed demeanor had crumbled. Her lips were tightly pursed, and her expression was a mask of conflicting emotions as she stared at Urcheon.

The queen's silence spoke volumes. Had Urcheon's claim been false, she would have swiftly ordered his execution. This unusual hesitation hinted at the truth of his words, and the guests began whispering amongst themselves, their murmurs growing louder.

Wayne, observing the scene from Princess Pavetta's side, noticed that while she remained outwardly composed, the chaotic magic surrounding her intensified, warping and twisting. The bearer of Elder Blood was clearly in turmoil, her emotions influencing the magic in the hall. Pavetta, a source of raw magic, had never received any formal training and wielded her power instinctively.

After a tense silence, Queen Calanthe abruptly summoned a servant, whispering instructions in his ear. The servant, his face a mix of shock and confusion, hurried out of the banquet hall.

King Eist, observing the situation from behind Wayne, rose from his seat and approached Queen Calanthe. "Is this true, Calanthe?" he asked, his voice calm but his eyes filled with concern.

Calanthe, no longer the picture of composure, bit her lip and looked at Eist with a hint of desperation. "Even if it were true," she replied, "what of it?"

Eist frowned, his voice firm. "If it is true, then the promise must be kept," he declared. "Otherwise, I would question your commitment to your word. If you, as a ruler, disregard such a vow, how can we trust your other promises, including those made to your allies?"