A promise made is a promise kept. Something not everyone honoured but Geralt did.

He read through the letter, a deep "Hm." escaped his throat. It had been 20 years since he made the promise to the Princess. Geralt leaned back against his chair and relived the memories of their short time together.

Two decades ago he had laid with her, making her promise something for a promise in return. After a single night of tenderness and mutual comfort, she asked him to look out for her future children if she died while they weren't old enough.

He hadn't forgotten his promise and now he faced the very real circumstances he hoped would never come. The Queen was dead, the Prince Consort thirsty for the throne and two children that were too young to ascent the throne just yet.

Geralt groaned and got up. He had to honour his promise. How could he not after she had written this letter to him shortly before she died, begging him to fulfill his promise? His way led him outside to Roach and to the kingdom he had last visited two decades ago.

With the information in the letter, he found the man who had hidden the children, only to discover that one of them had already been killed.

He had expected the child to be exactly that, a child. But he stood in front of a person that was almost an adult as it seemed. Your benefactor explained to Geralt that you didn't have the alliances yet to regain the throne at the moment.

"I knew your mother once." Geralt said gruffly to you. "Promised her to protect you in case something happens to her. I'll take you with me, bringing you somewhere safe. Move."

Without saying else, he left the house.