When rumors began to circulate in Temeria that King Foltest had supposedly given away his beloved princess to the one who could turn her from a horrible, cursed monster into his daughter (and, according to a working girl on the streets of Vizima, a portion of the royal family's lands was promised), Geralt just hummed and shrugged. He didn't particularly care about the promised land or the hand of the royal bastard. Only a well-deserved reward for getting rid of that bastard striga.

Who knew that rumors about the king giving away his child weren't rumors at all. Only no one ever told Geralt that Foltest had another offspring - basically just a thing - walking around the castle - born of a servant, in whose arms the king apparently tried to drown out that dull aching pain in his chest when he lost his sister and part-time lover.

Well, the witcher was about to refuse at first. Why would he need a kid on hand? He had enough headaches from the Unexpected Child, whose fate he still hadn't fully figured out. Seriously, he didn't even know their gender, let alone their name. Don't remind him of them... he could feel his head starting to hurt...

In any case, he would have been satisfied with a piece of royal land, and not this kid standing in front of him now, waiting for his share of adventures with a stupid face. The white wolf raised his head to the king, almost begging him with his eyes not to force someone else's unwanted child on him. Foltest, for all his cunning, simply pretended to tear Geralt's "reward" from his heart, and absolutely did not understand what was wrong with the witcher's reward.

In the end, the gray-haired man grabbed the child by the hand and, grumbling in irritation, stomped towards the exit. Damn his compassion for children.