The other person looked at her curiously, while the golden butterfly slowly flapped its wings, resting on her shoulder.
Yennefer's violet eyes narrowed as she quickly surveyed the surroundings by the fireplace: Triss, Geralt, Hen, Keira, and... Karl.
There were quite a few familiar faces, and the atmosphere was rather... formal and relaxed, her gaze lingering especially on Triss for a moment.
Geralt stood with his back to the portal, immersed in thought about Karl's "soul theory."
Suddenly, a familiar scent, sweet as cloves and currants, quietly reached his nose.
He was suddenly startled, and surprise instantly flashed in his calm, cat-like eyes. Almost instinctively, he quickly turned his head.
And indeed, that figure, lingering in his heart, stood there.
She crossed her arms, looking at him leisurely, a slight, half-smile playing on her lips.
"...Yen." Geralt's voice involuntarily softened.
The emotions contained in this short name were felt by almost everyone present – surprise, concern, and a subtle... relaxation?
Keira and Triss almost simultaneously displayed silent, teasing expressions, their eyes darting between Geralt and Yennefer.
Karl, Hen, and Mousesack looked much calmer, simply observing the long-awaited reunion with equanimity.
Yennefer seemed completely indifferent to the focused gazes of the crowd. She snorted softly and examined Geralt from head to toe with a critical eye.
Today he wore a rare dark blue outfit, tailored to the right length, but it was clearly not his usual Witcher garb, and the color was not her favorite black and white.
"Geralt, your outfit..."
Yennefer's red lips slightly parted, her voice carrying that tone that always critiqued everything.
"I have to say, your aesthetic taste is, as always... unique."
Even Ciri vaguely heard the teasing and hint of sarcasm in her words.
Geralt's eyes flickered, a look of confusion appearing on his face. He didn't understand why, after just changing into a rather formal outfit,
he had upset her again. It was clearly just a coat...
Yennefer seemed not to dwell on this topic. She looked away, the curve of her lips becoming more genuine.
She gracefully walked over to Triss, who had already risen from her seat.
The two sorceresses embraced gently, then parted.
"Triss, long time no see. You look..." Even more beautiful than when she was at Aretuza. Yennefer assessed her friend and praised her softly.
Triss smiled softly, her eyes flickering as she casually glanced at Karl beside her, then replied: "You too, Yennefer."
"Karl never mentioned you. It seems you've known each other for quite a while... and not just briefly?"
Her words were probing; she wanted to understand the closeness of Yennefer's relationship with Karl.
Yennefer's smile remained unchanged, but her mind quickly worked. She definitely caught the hidden meaning in Triss's words.
She shrugged, making a displeased expression: "No, Triss, it's quite the opposite."
"The process of 'getting to know' Lord Karl and me was rather... full of twists and unexpected turns, and it left a deep impression on me." She deliberately glanced at Geralt nearby.
"At that time, a certain Witcher didn't even dare to say much."
Geralt, who was called out, immediately looked away, a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes.
Pretending nothing happened, he took a bottle of dwarven spirit from a small table nearby and poured himself a full glass.
Hearing this, Triss again looked at Karl, who was expressionless, as if it had nothing to do with her, then at Geralt, who was pretending to focus on his drink.
Combining her understanding of Yennefer's personality and Karl's style, she quickly sketched a possible scenario in her mind.
Yennefer had probably said something in her usual condescending tone upon their first meeting, which inadvertently angered Karl.
As a result, she was subjected to some kind of "punishment" or intimidation, but Geralt, present at the time, knew both Karls' characters well and didn't dare to interfere or plead for mercy.
Thinking this, Triss was about to say something to ease the tension or change the subject.
However, Yennefer herself changed the topic. Her gaze swept over everyone present, as if remembering something, and she asked with a teasing tone.
"By the way, Geralt, what about your great poet friend, who always chases after inspiration and romance?"
"At such a lively event, he really missed it? That's rare."
Geralt finally put down his glass and replied: "Dandelion? He left Terra earlier, saying he wanted to go somewhere else to find new 'inspiration.'"
Mentioning this friend, who always brings both trouble and joy, Geralt's voice inevitably carried a hint of helplessness.
Yennefer's slender fingers tapped lightly on her arm several times.
Whether she truly considered it pity or just a joke, she smiled and said: "That's truly a pity."
"At this grand banquet, without hearing the improvisations and magnificent singing of the North's chief bard, something seems to be missing."
At that moment, Karl's expression changed slightly, prompted by Yennefer's words.
His gaze quickly swept over Geralt's stern but conflicted profile.
Then he glanced at Yennefer's face, which pretended to be calm but hid complex emotions in her eyes.
Immediately after, an idea came to his mind, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily lifted.
He lightly clapped his hands twice, and the clear applause stood out in the relatively quiet atmosphere, instantly drawing everyone's attention.
"Poetry? I... even have a little of that absorbed from poets." Karl said.
"If, Miss Yennefer, you don't mind my limited skills." He looked at Yennefer, his eyes full of question.
Yennefer was stunned for a moment, a flicker of surprise in her violet eyes.
She had only casually mentioned Dandelion as a joke, not expecting a response, and certainly not expecting Karl to respond.
And... Could Karl play and sing poetry? This was far beyond her usual impression of Karl.
Her eyes flickered as she quickly analyzed Karl's intentions, but this was a banquet, and the host offering to perform poetry to improve the mood made sense.
She quickly recovered from her surprise, nodded slightly, and put on a polite smile again.
However, a hint of curiosity flickered in her smile: "Of course, I don't mind. In fact, my interest in poetry... truly is significant."
This was not mere politeness; any sorcerer who had lived longer would more or less appreciate fine literature and art.
As everyone sat down and their gazes turned to him, Karl took a lute from the equally curious eyes of a maid, though it was not particularly ornate.