Torches illuminated the narrow spiral corridor, and a red-clothed waiter with a ponytail and a white face and beardless led the witcher up the spiraling staircase.
"Wait, where are you taking me? It's time to see the queen."
Hasok turned around and stared at the witcher with quiet eyes, "No... your messy hair and ragged clothes are really not suitable for appearing in front of the noble queen and princess, so I have to take you to get dressed first. ."
As he said that, he moved his nose closer to the witcher, then fanned the air in front of him sissy, showing a small expression of disgust.
"With all due respect, you don't smell very good."
"How is it possible, I take a bath every day!" Unless it's in the wild, where there is no village in front of him or a store in the back, Roy is far more particular about cleanliness than most witchers.
Compared to the rough guys like Leto and the Oaks brothers, he is simply a clean freak.
However, he sniffed his left and right shoulders, "That... I was sweating from training this morning, but I haven't had time to clean it up... You can understand... The witcher licks blood with a knife and has to keep in good physical condition through training. …”
"No need to explain, come with me."
After the attendant turned around, he uttered a few words indistinctly, "However, you are very manly."
"Uh-" The witcher's body stiffened instantly.
…
Roy was soaked in a bath tub full of foam, his neck leaned against the slippery basin, and the pungent smell of soap lingered in his nostrils.
In the crisp sound of "click, click", a pair of black and hard scissors was roaming back and forth in his hair.
"The quality of your hair is so good!"
The barber's nimble fingers stroked the witcher's black hair lightly, the expression on his face like that of an artist in the process of creating.
"To match your face shape, how about a little touch of your hair and a ponytail?"
"It's up to you, don't leave it for me too long." Roy leaned nervously in the bathtub. The last time he went through the grass trial at Meritelli Temple, his hair fell out.
Then, in just a few months, maybe because of hormone stimulation, it grows down over the neck again, just enough to tie a chic ponytail.
For this, Leto also laughed at him.
"The witcher has long hair? It's hot, uncomfortable, and prone to lice."
"How can a bald head realize the happiness of a person with hair?"
Roy retorted like this at the time, and then Leto ignored him with a cold face all day.
"All right… "
The barber put away the scissors, and wiped the witcher's face and back of neck with a linen cloth soaked in the angelica tincture.
Roy stood up from the bathtub, took the towel from the attendant and wrapped it around his waist, then walked out of the bathtub, leaving wet footprints on the masonry floor.
After he wiped his body and rested for a while, the Hasok came over and looked him up and down, then nodded and praised, "You look much more handsome now." He stretched out his hand again, "Shirt, underwear, Trousers and tunic, and boots are ready."
"So complicated?" Roy frowned, "but I want to wear my own clothes... This tunic, tell me honestly, is it a woman's?"
"Please don't embarrass me..." Hassock said blankly.
The witcher struggled for a long time, and slowly put on his clothes. The rough fabric and tight style made him feel like he was wearing a heavy shackle.
"What should I do, I can't even kill a water ghost now!"
"Pay attention to your words, don't be rude in front of the princess and the queen later." Hasok said and handed him a delicate and small glass bottle.
"what is this?"
"perfume."
"Enough! Take it away, get away from me!"
Eventually Hasok gave in, and the witcher didn't spray the perfume.
"Now, I will teach you the basic etiquette of the Sintra royal court. I will demonstrate it to you again, and you will do it again with me."
"It's not necessary." Roy said in a loud voice, and he had taught him the etiquette of these nobles in Carbon Mountain.
…
After a long and arduous preparation, the witcher was led into a bright, luxurious room. On the first golden nanmu bench in the room, sat a majestic woman with a crown on her head and a golden waistcoat.
Next to the woman, a little girl in a white gauze dress, red leather boots, stockings, and a hairpin sat quietly. She stared at the witcher without blinking, her eyes sparkling.
The two sides fell into silence after a brief courtesy greeting.
The witcher's eyes were deep, and he looked at the little girl secretly.
"Sure enough, this little guy is her..."
Hiri
Gender: Female
Age: 8
Occupation: Princess of Sintra, heir to the throne of Sintra
Health: 50
Mana: 150
Attributes:
Strength: 3
Agility: 4
Constitution: 5
Perception: 4
Will: 4
Charisma: 6
Spirit: 15
Skill:
Blood of the Ancients (Passive Curing): The oldest bloodline of the Ain El tribe, those who inherit this bloodline will master all kinds of incredible powers, but they are currently in the early stage of awakening, and all powers are uncontrollable—
Children of Time and Space: The heirs of the blood of the ancients can instantly cross distant spaces and enter thousands of planes at will... Occasionally, they can capture some fragments of the future through the long river of time and space, and speak out prophecies like a hysterical outbreak.
At this stage, it can only be triggered at the moment of life and death.
Lucky: Her innate intuition not only allows her to avoid fatal blows in battle, but when faced with a major choice, she can also intuitively choose the best option to seek good luck and avoid evil.
Primordial Warlock: The heir of the blood of the ancients has the magical potential of the ancient times when she was born, but before she has not been systematically trained and used spells, she will be repulsed by magic. The ability will trigger suddenly.
…
"Hey... is this what the Wild Hunt is seeking?"
From the ancient blood of Calanthor's ancestor, the elven sage Laura Doren.
Roy took a deep breath and tried his best to keep his expression calm. All kinds of unpredictable powers literally wrote four words on Ciri's face - "Protagonist of Destiny".
So, can you get on this ride
Dark golden eyes continued to turn on the older woman.
But Queen Calanthe had no aura fluctuations, just like an ordinary mortal, but the blood of the ancients in the young Ciri was more conspicuous.
Through observation, Roy can perceive the looming magical fluctuations in Ciri, but now, most of her potential has not been stimulated, and she is in the primary stage, unable to control the ability to predict and travel through time and space.
If the blood of the ancients is inherited from generation to generation, but Pavetta also has some unpredictable abilities.
"Roy, son of Lower Adian, disciple of Leto of Guleta, do you know why I called you into the palace?"
At this time, the indifferent voice of the queen interrupted Roy's reverie.
"Your Majesty the Queen, didn't you ask me to teach the princess swordsmanship?"
The queen shook her head and solemnly warned, "Ciri is still young, and practicing swordsmanship now will only hurt her tender body."
"I'm not that squeamish!" The princess beside her pursed her lips and widened her round green eyes.
Calanthe ignored Ciri, squinted slightly, and said condescendingly to the witcher, "I don't know what arouses Ciri's interest in you. Originally, I couldn't have let you in as a lowly witcher. The palace. But now I see that your behavior and appearance are not as unsightly as before."
"You didn't do anything wrong during your time in Cintra, or get caught in the vulgar habits of a normal witcher. So I allow you to stay in the palace and look after Ciri with the other squires. Play with her and make her happy. ."
"After Ciri leaves Sintra, I will give you a handsome reward."
"Huh?!" The witcher was stunned. The queen wanted a witcher to be a nanny? "Did you misunderstand the witcher? Our arms are good at sword dancing, but..."
"Don't want to?"
The queen interrupted his rebuttal rudely.
What kind of attitude is this, asking for help and giving alms? Discrimination against witchers? Prejudice against witchers? !
Roy remained calm and said respectfully,
"No, it's my great honor to be with Princess Ciri—"
He bowed his head obediently, but a crooked idea was in his mind, "Calanser discriminates against me, and I will tune/teach her granddaughter, um, it's fair. Besides, I can't care about an old woman who won't live for a few years. "
The witcher glanced at the doll-like little girl, and the little girl smiled innocently.
Calanthe nodded, clearly satisfied with the witcher who knew the times. "I have another question. Do you know a white-haired witcher named Geralt?"
Roy shook his head and said nonsense, "Actually, I just turned ten... six years old, and I know very few witchers."
What a joke, he didn't want to be implicated.
Calanthe slightly regretted that if Geralt hadn't intervened, her good daughter Pavetta would not have married Downey, and naturally she would not have fallen to the point where she is now dead.
She had a lot of hatred for the white wolf, but unfortunately, this guy was haunted and couldn't be found at all.
"Okay, little girl can't wait..." Calanser fondly stroked Ciri's rat-gray hair, "This time you have to be obedient and stop making fun of me!"
The little girl blushed with excitement, and suddenly took out a white handkerchief from her arms and threw it to the witcher.
"Come on! Dragon Slayer! I can't wait to hear your adventures!"