The wave of emotion washed over him like a tsunami, making his body tremble slightly, uncontrollably.
He reached out his hands... hands that had once been as steady as stone, holding the king's authority.
At this moment, they trembled violently in the air and froze.
He dared not touch Adda, afraid that she was merely an all-too-realistic phantom,
and that the moment his fingertips made contact, she would shatter like foam, plunging him back into the abyss of despair.
His lips quivered; he tried to speak, but could only manage meaningless sounds like "hoh-hoh."
His eyes were full of ecstasy, fear, and a nearly pleading, disbelieving look.
Karl understood Foltest's state of mind at this moment; he didn't say much, just adjusted his posture slightly.
Then, carefully and steadily, he gently transferred the still-unconscious Adda in his arms into Foltest's trembling hands.
When the weight of his daughter truly settled into the crook of his arm, and the heavy, warm sensation penetrated the thick cloak, his whole body shuddered.
This was not a dream! This was not an illusion! His Adda... she had truly returned!
"Mmm..." A groan, long suppressed, finally escaped from deep within Foltest's throat, a sound mixed with endless pain and immense relief.
He suddenly tightened his embrace, holding Adda close, and hot tears instantly burst forth.
They streamed wantonly down his weathered cheeks, dripping onto Adda's pale forehead and her dusty cloak.
He hunched over his tall frame, burying his face in the rough fabric, his shoulders shaking violently as he sobbed quietly.
At that moment, Foltest was not the King of Temeria, but simply a fragile, joyful father who had regained his heart's treasure.
When his excitement subsided a little, he carefully examined Adda's pale but peacefully sleeping face.
He couldn't help but notice the prominent bruise on the back of her head.
"This... Karl, what is this injury on Adda's head...?"
Foltest's fingers gently touched the mark, he frowned slightly, and looked up at Karl with suspicion.
Karl's expression didn't change; he replied in a calm tone: "Your Majesty, Her Highness the Princess has just had the curse lifted; her human form, mind, and body have not yet fully adapted."
"When I found her, she seemed very frightened and accidentally struck her head on the sarcophagus in her struggle."
"She hit the back of her head, which is why she sustained the injury and fell unconscious."
Karl's partially true explanation somewhat embellished the earlier act of knocking her out.
Foltest looked at his daughter's frail state in his arms, then at Karl's sincere expression, and found the explanation reasonable.
It was entirely possible that a girl, just recovering from years of a curse, would act uncontrollably.
He nodded and stopped asking about this minor incident.
Composing himself, he raised his head, his eyes shining with genuine emotion: "Karl, I... I truly don't know how to thank you. You have done what everyone thought was impossible!"
"You saved Adda, you saved me, and that Witcher..."
As he said this, his voice abruptly stopped, and a look of extreme, unnatural awkwardness flickered across his face.
He remembered the decision he had made last night in his anxiety and suspicion—to disarm the Witcher and place him under guard.
Karl spoke up at the right moment, pulling Foltest out of his embarrassment: "Your Majesty, there's no need to rush the matter of rewards."
"You look very tired; you probably haven't slept all night. It would be best to take the Princess back to the palace first and get her properly settled."
Only then did Foltest truly realize how poor his condition was: his body ached, his eyelids were heavy.
He cast Karl a grateful glance, then took a deep breath and turned to the guards with a changed expression.
His voice regained its former authority, but with a slight hint of apology: "Release the Witcher immediately, and return his weapons and belongings to him exactly as they were!"
The guards quickly obeyed, and Geralt calmly took his swords and equipment, checked them one by one, and put them back on.
He was silent throughout the process, his face wearing its usual indifferent expression, showing neither joy nor anger.
Foltest, holding Adda, approached Geralt.
The king, usually so high and mighty, lowered his head slightly at this moment, his voice sincere.
"Witcher, I sincerely apologize for the unreasonable, suspicious, and insulting behavior I committed last night out of anxiety."
"I misjudged your character. Please accept my apology."
This was an extremely rare gesture for a king.
Geralt's amber cat-like eyes calmly regarded Foltest, and after a few seconds, he nodded slightly.
He replied simply in his low, raspy voice: "Alright, as long as the matter is resolved, Your Majesty."
He accepted the apology but remained detached, not appearing flattered or thrilled by the king's bow.
A Witcher's career had accustomed him to all kinds of human emotions, to understanding them, but not to being easily swayed by them.
At that moment, Geralt's gaze fell on Adda in Foltest's arms.
More precisely, on her disheveled reddish-brown hair.
He keenly noticed several very noticeable streaks of pale, withered-looking strands within the thick hair, not the condition of a healthy young girl.
He stepped forward, pointed to the white streaks, and said to Foltest in a serious voice: "Your Majesty, please look. The Princess's hair... there is something unusual happening."
Karl had noticed this detail earlier, but with Foltest so emotional, he had decided not to mention it.
At this moment, he also nodded in confirmation: "Yes, Your Majesty. I noticed it as well. It doesn't seem to be a good sign."
Foltest, already shaken, quickly and carefully parted Adda's hair and, of course, saw the glaring white streaks.
His elated mood instantly cooled with a splash of cold water.
He looked anxiously at the two heroes who had lifted the curse: "What does this mean? Wasn't the curse completely broken? Is Adda still in danger?"
Geralt slowly shook his head, his voice certain yet tinged with regret: "The core of the curse has been lifted; the Princess has returned to human form. There is no doubt about that."
"But these residual traces... indicate that the root of the curse has not been completely eradicated."
"It is like a dormant seed, still hiding within the Princess's body."
"If, in the future, a certain trigger occurs, or if conditions are met... the curse could still recur. It is recommended that the Princess wear a protective charm."
Hearing this, the blood drained slightly from Foltest's face; disappointment and worry resurfaced: "Even you... is there no way to completely eradicate it?"
Geralt silently shook his head, indicating there was nothing he could do.