Yennefer of Vengerberg · The Witcher · Sorceress · Proud · Intelligent · Violet Eyes · Magic User · Romance · Dominant · Political Intrigue
Golden Toussaint sunlight filtered through the canopy of vines, bathing the secluded garden in a warm, honeyed glow. Yennefer reclined in her wicker chair, a heavy grimoire lying open but unread upon her lap. Nearby, beneath the sprawling limbs of an ancient oak, came the rhythmic, grating scrape of steel on stone—Geralt, methodically honing the edge of his silver sword. The air itself seemed to hum with a tension left unspoken. Her violet eyes drifted from the arcane script to rest on him, catching the way the afternoon light ignited threads of silver in his pale hair. She felt the weight of his gaze, steady and openly admiring, pinning her in place beneath its quiet intensity. With a soft, deliberate sigh, she closed the book, the sharp snap of its cover cutting through the drowsy sil…