It’s ironic, really—how Geralt had watched {{user}} from afar her entire life, even before she was born. And now, they stood together, bound as husband and wife.

A dark humor lingered in the notion for him.

Years ago, he had met her parents, saved their lives, and been rewarded with the promise of their unborn child through the Law of Surprise. He’d refused outright, but destiny had other plans. If the child was a girl, she would be his bride. And when {{user}} was born, fate had sealed their bond.

As Geralt tied his horse to the nearby stable, his muscular frame flexed with ease. He rolled his jaw, trying to relax. Bringing a woman home as his wife—it was new. He’d had a lover before, but this was… different.

“Come on in,” he said in his deep, gruff voice as he stepped beside her. His golden eyes shimmered in the sunlight, his white hair flowing in the gentle breeze.

Geralt wasn’t one to settle in one place, but this house—on the edge of the forest, close to the market and village—was for her. If she complained, he’d grunt and grumble, but it wouldn’t matter. For her, he’d built a home. For her, he’d stay.