and so cried the witcher

geralt or rivia

The witcher stood in the throne room feeling like a cornered mouse. Soldiers all around the room had their eyes trained on him, hands on the hilts of their swords, ready to draw at any moment. He stood out like a sore thumb in the center of the room, dressed head to toe in black with his pale gray hair and amber-colored eyes, not to mention the two large swords he kept strapped on his back like a bow and quiver. He was intimidating and showed by how timid and cautious all of the soldiers moved.

"A cursed princess?" Geralt furrowed his brow, before looking up at the king. Why would anyone want to curse a princess? "And how have you come to this conclusion?"

The king instantly looked offended, almost completely outraged that the witcher would even hint at the idea he was wrong. "Every healer in the kingdom has had a look at her. They all say she is either losing her mind from insanity, or the curse of a witch!" Geralt's eyes fell back to the floor, already finding it impossible to speak with the king. It seemed to the witcher that the king's mind was already decided on what was wrong with his daughter. He supposed it could be a hex or a curse from someone holding a grudge, but it just didn't seem likely, unless someone was trying to get back at the king.

Geralt let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest tightly. "What about my coin?" His voice was deep and low and upon his question, he could hear some of the soldiers whispering around the room.

Told you all a witcher cares about is silver... A poor girl could be dying upstairs and all he wants is a payday...? How heartless...

The witcher wrinkled up his nose and just rolled his eyes before looking back at the king. He couldn't possibly go around saving every cursed princess and slaying every foul monster on the continent without asking for some form of payment. He had to eat just like every other man who stood in this room. "You will be paid handsomely, witcher-" the king spat in Geralt's direction, his hand gripping the arm of the throne tightly- "after you cure my daughter."

Geralt huffed, letting his arms fall back to his side. "Fine then, take me to see this princess." He looked around the room, his eyes moving over each and every individual soldier, wondering which would be brave enough to escort the white wolf to the princess. A knight standing near the king's throne took a few steps forward, only giving the witcher an intense glare before he motioned for Geralt to follow him. Shaking his head, Geralt kept his head low and followed the knight out of the throne room, instantly relieved to be free of that suffocating room.

It was a long walk up to the princess's quarters. Just like in a fairy tale, they kept her tucked away high up in one of the many towers of the castle. The knight stood at the ornately carved wooden door, refusing to even acknowledge Geralt except for knocking just once on the door for him. Clearing his throat, Geralt pushed the door open with one hand, slowly peeking his head inside, "Princess?" His voice was no much softer and quieter, still rough, but not like it had been when he spoke with her father.

Sassanra spent most of her days on her bed, the covers pulled up high to her collar with her arms the only part of her body that wasn't hidden beneath the fabric. She had little strength, even turning her head toward the open window to look outside seemed like too high of a task at the moment. The longer that time went on, the more sure that she would succumb to the curse she became. Sassanra had no clue what she had done to earn this, no, but she was sure whatever it had been must have been horrible.

When she first started feeling the effects of the curse, Sassanra had simply been a bit too tired. She could still do everything that she normally did, she would just end up tired a bit earlier on in the evening. As the days wore on, she would retire from dinner early. It hadn't been much for a raise of concern at first, why would it? She was simply feeling under the weather.

That had been months ago - now Sassanra could hardly get out of bed without feeling winded. Without the help of her maids who seemed afraid to even touch her. Was the curse transferable? No one could seem to give her answers. Even her father couldn't seem to find anything out, having brought in the best healers from all across the kingdom. Most looked at her and would try something new before shaking their head in disappointment when it didn't help her.

Sassanra couldn't remember the last time that she had managed to make it all the way down to the feast hall. The last time she had sat with her family while eating or welcome visiting noble. Hell, Sassanra struggled to remember the last time her father had even visited her in her chambers. Her mother tried to come during the day which was the only reason she had managed to find out that her father had sent for a witcher. As a last hope to find what was wrong with her.

She had insisted on sitting up at the small table by the window. Her maids had bathed her and helped her to dress in something a bit more fitting of the man who could potentially save her life. Sassanra sat at the table, her hands in her lap as she let the warmth of the sun wash over her. The fresh air through the window was a welcome feeling, she hadn't had so much activity in weeks.

Looking up when there was a knock at the door, Sassanra swallowed thickly. Her eyes locked on the witcher and she couldn't help the fear that settled in her gut. It wasn't that she was afraid of the white haired man but she was afraid of what would happen if he wasn't successful. How long before she met her end? Sassanra took as deep of a breathe as she dared. "Witcher," she breathed, setting her hand on the table. Sassanra looked to struggle as she pushed to her feet, barely able to hold herself up but she was trying to appear stronger than she was. "Come in. Please."

Geralt's eyes cast around the room, first going to the empty bed where he had expected the princess to be. He heard a slight noise coming from the opposite corner, and there she was, sitting alone at a table. This was a completely different environment for the witcher. When he worked, it was usually in thick woods or abandoned graveyards, sometimes even crumbling castles, but not a princess's bedroom.

Stepping inside, Geralt hesitated before he turned and shut the door in the knights face. He refused to be babysat like a child. Turning to face the princess again, Geralt awkwardly nodded his head to her in a form of a bow before he made his way over to the table. The girl looked so fragile, her face sickeningly pale, but still flushed red around her cheeks and nose. "Sit." Geralt told her, noticing how her body trembled. He could sense how weak she was and he didn't even need to use his extra senses to see that.

He followed his own advice and pulled the swords from his back, propping them up against the table before taking a seat. Witchers weren't supposed to feel emotion, but the longer a witcher lived the easier it became for their emotions to begin to resurface. Geralt had been lately beginning to experience that and even now, he felt he still couldn't ignore just how beautiful the princess was.

"I'm not sure if your father told you about me," Geralt felt awkward with the introduction, "my name is Geralt." He sat straight in the chair, his eyes trailing over the princess. "Can you tell me when this all started?" Anything at all could be able to help determine what was actually at play here.

@ castle.

Sassanra didn't thick she knew what she was supposed to do as she stood before Geralt. She had heard tales of witchers growing up, of course. But she didn't know what would or wouldn't offend him. Should she sit or stand? She thought it better to be safe and so she remained standing. The relief she felt when Geralt directed her to sit was likely palpable as she all but fell into the chair. She breathed a small sigh of relief, leaning back against the chair.

She opened her mouth to tell Geralt that she hadn't even seen her father in months before she thought better of it. Sassanra gave a small shake of her head as she closed her mouth, lowering her gaze to her lap. "I am Sassanra," she introduced, her voice shaky even as she tried to push the tremors from her voice.

Sassanra shifted in her seat. SHe wanted to tell Geralt everything but this story was one she had been over time and time again. With every healer that she came to visit, she told the story and she was pitied. That was perhaps the worst part of it all. The pity. She hated it because she didn't like the feeling at all. Sassanra took a deep breath, twisting her fingers together in her lap as she pieced together the story that she need to tell yet again. How many more times before it was over? Would this be the last?

"It began about a year ago. At first, I was just a bit more tired than usual at the end of the day. I didn't.. didn't think much of it. Then I started not going down to meals as often, resting in my bed more than anything else. But I could still get up to do some things. I could still knit, sing... welcome the nobles that came to visit. Slowly, my strength has completely left me. I haven't.." Sassanra trailed off as she glanced around the room. It had been her prison for longer than she cared to admit but if Geralt was to help her, she had to be honest with him. Whether she thought it important or not, Sassanra willed herself to speak. "Haven't left my chambers for nearly three months. The stairs...they are too much. Father worries I will not make it through the next winter. Or so I am told. He also worries that I will only get sicker if I try to go downstairs so I remain up here. Only healers and my maids visit outside of my mother."

Sassanra looked up to Geralt hesitantly, her eyes roaming over his features. It wasn't in a mean way. He was just the first new person she had seen in weeks, since the last healer had left. He was a mystery to her. Something new for her to get to know, until she was sure he would fail just as the healers had. "Thank you. For trying, at least." Already, Sassanra had resigned herself to the idea that Geralt would fail because of how many had already tried.

Geralt listened to her tentatively, but by the end he didn't seem to see anything supernatural here. The girl just seemed sickly, so why was everyone instantly jumping to the conclusion that it was a curse? Furrowing his brows, he tilted his head to the side and seemed to look through Sassanra. "You've already so easily given up on me?" How many healers had she met that had so easily written it off as a curse because her father believed it so? "I'm not a healer."

He leaned forward, noticing how the princess eyed him. He expected her to mention something about his odd appearance, but instead she just stayed quiet. "Any other side effects, Sassanra?" He didn't want to keep resulting to calling her by a formality. Geralt wanted to make her as comfortable as possible so it might feel easier for her to speak with him. "Anything weird or strange?"

The witcher was worried that it might be something he couldn't cure, especially if it just continued to sound like some sort of a disease. He wanted to be able to give the princess hope, so he would do what he could, but he didn't want to make any promises. It must be terrifying to her, not knowing what was wrong, or perhaps at this point she was numb to it. Sassanra seemed to be more miserable than frightened, part of her seemed to already accept an inevitable death.

@ castle.

Sassanra had been afraid in the beginning. No one wanted to die so young but at this point, Sassanra felt as if there was no other pathway out of this. By the time she realized her father would much rather forget she existed than so much as visit for a few minutes, Sassanra had accepted her fate. Death nearly felt welcome at this point because at least she wouldn't be holed up in the room with no energy to do anything. Even reading a book was often too much. Rarely, did she have the energy to do such a thing.

When Geralt seemed to pick up on that, Sassanra nearly felt like she was going to be sick. She had offended him and he was going to leave before he could even try to help. But would it matter? Sassanra shrank back in her seat as she hung her head, biting down on the inside of her lip. "I-I'm sorry... I just... I've been like this..." she trailed off, waving her hand in front of her to indicate herself. "If Father sent for you, he must be desperate. I know he doesn't believe I'll make it much longer. And he's.. he's right. I probably won't. It is easier to handle if I accept my fate," she expained lowly. Tears welled in her eyes but she didn't let them fall, for she was a princess. Princesses weren't meant to cry.

"Some days I have more.. energy. Usually I eat soup so it's easier to digest. But sometimes if my mother wants to spoil me, she brings me something a bit more exciting. A pastry. Not often because it's not good for me but... that's just because I'm excited to have something out of what I normally have. That's why I have more energy," Sassanra explained. She had already thought it through, long and hard. It was the only plausible explanation to her.

Geralt frowned, hesitating before he spoke. "You can't let whatever this is take your spirit. If it's a curse, it'll definitely win if you give it that." The witcher had already ruled out a curse, but he wasn't going to mention that to anyone. Not until he had a concrete answer. It would help the situation if Sassanra could find it in herself to remain positive.

He wanted to ask if it was her mother who fed her every day, or if it was usually a servant. How often did she eat a day and was it everyday she had some sort of soup and only something different on the days her mother visited her? Geralt was already concerned with her diet, but he was sure he could poke around and find a few more things to worry about.

"Do you know of anyone in the castle who would want to hurt you? I know that's a serious question to ask, but if it's a curse, someone had to send it your way." Geralt watched the princess try to sit up straight in the chair but just something as little as that seemed to be draining her energy. He could see the tears that brimmed her eyes. "Or your father?"

@ castle.

Sassanra felt an odd sense of comfort when Geralt tried to encourage her. She wasn't sure why it felt any different than it did when healers attempted to help her but it did. Perhaps it was the the White Wolf sat before her, promising to try and help her. She had heard tales of him, had sung songs in his honor when she was alone - she wouldn't dare praise a witcher in public. He was the witcher of all witchers, wasn't he supposed to be? If anyone at all could help her, maybe it was Geralt. Maybe she could stand to be a bit hopeful.

Her brows pulled together at the next round of questions. She worried at her bottom lip, her head tilting as she tried to think of anyone who would want to hurt her. She eventually shook her head, exhaling slowly. "I.. I don't think so. I try to be kind to our servants, always. My handmaidens, they pity me and I think they might be a bit afraid of catching whatever it is that I have. But they still help, when I need it. Father is kind to our servants, as well. I don't... see why anyone would want to hurt him. Especially through me."

Sassanra began to deflate as she sat in her chair. She wanted so badly to feel some sort of hope but she was afraid of it. Hope only made things worse in the end. To take her mind off of it, Sassanra looked toward Geralt. "You... you don't think it's a curse.. do you, Geralt?" She asked. Her voice was low, as if she was afraid of the question alone. "I've never heard of curses that run their course like this has... I.. it doesn't make sense. At least, I don't think it does..." she trailed off, looking away from Geralt suddenly. "Maybe that's just me being hopeful it can be fixed though."

Geralt sat back in his seat, taking his hands off of his knees and now letting them rest gently on the chair's arms. He didn't want to cause her any further alarm by letting her knew that he wasn't entirely sure what was happening here. Did he think it was a curse? No. Could it be? Sure. Was it probably something else? Most likely. He licked his bottom lip before shifting his gaze from the princess over to the window, "No, I don't think it is a curse, Sassanra."

In the privacy of her own room, when it was just the two of them, Geralt would make it a point to refer to her by her name. He was sure it would make her feel more comfortable with him and that would in turn help her speak more freely with them. "But, it still could be. That's why any small detail could be important. If you can think of anything you feel might help, no matter how small it may be, let me know." Geralt let his eyes linger on the princess and even though he felt confused, he made sure to wear a stony, emotionless exterior as to not cause her any worry. He didn't want to give her anything that could help her grow more doubtful.

"What about surrounding kingdoms?" He asked, moving his head to the side to look around her room. "Are there any conflicts with neighboring kingdoms? Has your father had any harsh words with any other kings lately?"

@ castle.

Sassanra wished for a very brief moment that she could race down the stairs, shouting that Geralt thought it wasn't a curse. That she wasn't the only one - she wasn't crazy in what she thought. But she did not have the energy nor did that seem like it would be a good idea to begin with. Sassanra settled with nodding her head. She smoothed out the material of her skirt, listening carefully to the words that he spoke. She may have thought it wasn't a curse but outside of that, Sassanra had no clue.

"I know that there is concern about my father's ability to protect his own. With how sick I am, with them not being able to figure out what is wrong with me. How can people expect to feel safe if the King cannot even protect his own daughter?" Sassanra's face scrunched as she spoke. "At least, my maids have whispered about it. I don't think I am supposed to know about the turmoil because it will only make my condition worse. My maids have told me about it."

Sassanra took the chance to look at Geralt when he turned to look around the room. She couldn't deny how attractive he was. His chiseled jaw, his muscles that threatened to rip the shirt that he wore on his back. Sassanra wondered... she couldn't help but blush as she looked away quickly when he started to turn back toward her.

"I don't blame them for questioning my father. It would.. it would make sense if other kingdoms have started to question him. His strength in their alliances would be questioned," Sassanra supplied. She didn't know all that much about running her kingdom but she thought what she said was a logical explanation.

Geralt didn't really expect any foul play from other monarchs, but any information he could find out about her father might be helpful. With each word that left the princess's lips, she seemed to grow paler, or the dark circles under her eyes seemed to grow darker. He frowned, hoping his suspicions weren't true. The witcher wasn't sure why he felt the sudden urge to protect the princess and it wasn't because of the promise of coin. He felt something like anger brewing inside of him at the thought of someone intentionally doing this to her. He shoved it to the side, reminding himself that it was inappropriate to grow any attachments, that he couldn't form any relationships with anyone here. Once the job was done and the coin was in his hand, he would no longer be welcome.

"You're not looking very well." He spoke gently, slowly rising from his chair and going to her side. Offering his arm, he helped her up and escorted her over to her bed, noticing just how badly her whole body was trembling. "Don't exert yourself," he grunted, before helping her into the posh bed, pulling back the silk canopy so he could still look in on her.

"I will get to the bottom of this, I promise." He instantly cursed himself, knowing that was not the right thing to do. He didn't have the slightest clue if that was a promise he could keep, especially if his gut feeling was leading him in the right direction. Someone in this castle had it out of for the girl, but why... That still was lost on him. He suspected her father, but if that was the case, why would he call him in if he knew there was no curse to be found? He frowned, forcing himself to look back at Sassanra. "I will."

@ castle.

Sassanra gave Geralt a tight smile, shrugging her shoulders when he remarked about how she looked. She hadn't felt well for a long time, was it surprising to the witcher that she was exhausted from their little meeting? She hadn't had so much activity in so long that she nearly forgot what it was like to have a decent conversation with someone. Sassanra looked up to Geralt, surprised when the witcher offered her his hand. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking down to it before she looked back up to Geralt. She swallowed thickly, hesitating for a moment longer before she reached out to take his arm. Bracing herself with her other hand, Sassanra pushed to her feet. She didn't want to but she had to lean against him as they made their way back toward the bed. "Thank you," she spoke quietly, biting down on her lip as she moved back against the pillows.

Looking up to Geralt, Sassanra gave him a genuine smile for the first time. She knew that she wasn't supposed to be hopeful but Geralt had promised.. maybe, just maybe. She reached out, setting her hand on Geralt's arm. "Thank you, Geralt. I know.. e-even if you can't... at least you tried." Her voice trailed off because she didn't know what else to say. She felt like hse should thank him but how did you thank when you had no clue how this was going to turn out.

"Maybe if I get better... I can sing tales of the witcher that saved my life," Sassanra added. Her face lit up at the thought of feeling well enough to sing about the very man who saved her life. "I-If... you're able to. You will always be welcome here." Sassanra did not try to fight on very much but if Geralt managed to save her, she would do anything she could to make his life a bit more comfortable.

Geralt couldn't help but smile slightly at the princess's young naivety. Whether he saved her or not, he nor any other witcher would ever be welcome, anywhere. "I just got rid of one bard," he tried to tease with her, hoping a light-hearted nature would help place her in better spirits, "but if you must sing about me, let's make sure it's in good health." Her touch was cold, her fingertips felt like stone, but still, Geralt shivered. He pushed away thoughts of his friend, Jaskier, wondering only briefly if the bard had been able to find himself in any more trouble since their last meeting.

"Rest, Sassanra. I will be back." He held her hand that was lingering on his arm, before placing it gently onto the bed next to her side. He would need to speak to the royal healer, perhaps he could get a bit more information from him, perhaps something Sassanra didn't know. If it was a poison like he suspected, maybe it would be a good idea to search out any mages or botanists in the kingdom. Someone had to be making the concoction.

He lingered by her bedside still, not sure why he felt he couldn't force his feet to move. He wanted to make sure she was sound before he left her. He also wasn't looking forward to being surrounded by cowards in silver-plated armor. Geralt could already feel the claustrophobia the castle would give him, already feeling like a trapped mouse.

@ castle.

"A lady bard. Would that be so bad?" Sassanra reasoned, a flush creeping onto her cheeks at her words. She was shy thinking about the attempt at flirting she'd just tried. She was quick to turn away from Geralt, biting down on her lip as Geralt retreated from the room. She forced herself to sit up long enough to pull her dress off. By the time she finished that, Sassanra was breathless. She didn't want to wait for her maids as she crawled beneath the covers on the bed. She closed her eyes, sinking into the mattress. It didn't take long before Sassanra fell asleep, with the White Wolf dominating her dreams.

Sassanra groaned as a knock at the door woke her from her slumber hours later. She winced as she called out for the person to come inside. Sassanra wasn't surprised that it was her maid with a bowl of soup for her. She wasn't the least bit hungry but she was sure that her visit with the witcher had drained her energy and her parents wanted her to eat to keep her energy as up as they could.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position. Sassanra gave a light smile as the tray was set on her lap. "Thank you," she sat softly. She tried to eat on her own as often as she could, without her maid's help. Forcing herself to eat, Sassanra was quiet as she did.

Geralt stepped from the room, closing the door quietly behind him. "Learn anything, witcher?" The knight mocked him, causing Geralt to look down at him with his a mean stare, his brow furrowed together. The knight instantly took a step back and turned, hurrying down the stairs away from the princess's room. Shaking his head, Geralt followed down the stairs slowly, not surprised that the soldier didn't have the gumption to follow up on his teases. They never did.

"Take me to the royal healer." He instructed the knight, not finding it in him to try and remain polite. Pleasantries had never been his forte and he wasn't about to start now. The knight grumbled something about not having to take orders from a mutant, but he still gestured for Geralt to follow after him. The castle was arrogantly beautiful, artwork decorated the hall he was guided through and all of the windows were open wide, curtains pushed out of the way to the let the sunlight come streaming inside. Even all of the servants and maids he passed seem to have a smile on their faces. He couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he felt in his gut.

Entering the greenhouse off of the west wing of the castle, Geralt moved around the planters and tables of clutter until he found the man he searched for, cowering in the back over a book. "Are you the royal healer?" Geralt spoke, unnerved that the man hadn't sensed him from his loud footsteps. "What's your consensus about this curse?"

@ castle.

The frail man had worked for the kingdom from the time when Sassanra's grandfather ruled over the land. He had known her grandfather's and father's rule. He would never speak out against his current king but there were certainly differences between the two. Sassanra's grandfather had been a kind man. Hard to those that needed or required it but still, kind. Now it seemed to him that her father's sanity was beginning to fray. There were whispers that he hadn't produced a male heir - that marrying Sassanra off wouldn't be an option if the Queen did not produce a male heir.

Looking up from the book he was reading, the man blicked as he studied Geralt. He frowned, eyeing the witcher warily. "I am," the man concurred, pushing to his feet. He moved closer to the witcher, glancing toward the door. He eyed the knight that remained outside and looked to debate what he was going to say.

When the man spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "It is a strange curse that is meant to derail everything with our beloved royalty," the healer said, tilting his head. "The king is... not well. I think the curse is fraying his own mind for he has now lost his heir. Of course the princess is not a prince but... she is the only heir the king has." The man's face fell as he continued to speak, worrying about both the king and the princess was even beginning to weigh on his shoulders.

"Great..." Geralt grumbled, his suspicions only being confirmed. The king was poisoning his own daughter to buy the queen more time to provide him an heir. He was surprised the older healer had been so forthcoming with information. He had probably heard the stories of how witchers always obtained the information they were looking for, through persuasion or getting their hands dirty. Or, maybe this man actually cared about the princess's wellbeing. Geralt couldn't be sure either way.

He paced around the room, looking around everything that laid out atop the tables. It was hot and sweltering in here, the perfect temperature for the flora that grew around him. "Are there any other healers in this castle, or just you?" Geralt let his hand brush over many of the different leaves and petals. He stopped before his hand could brush over brilliant red seeds sprouting from a rosary pea. There's one poisonous plant... He was sure there were dozens in this room, though. Where a deadly plant could poison, it could also have it's redeeming qualities... He wasn't ready to place the blame on anyone, just yet, but if he could find who was making the poison... If there was one...

"Do you spend much time with the king?"

@ castle.

The healer eyed Geralt warily as the witcher moved throughout the room. "Please do not touch the plants. Some are not good to touch without gloves..." he trailed off in a low voice. He shook his head when Geralt began to question him again. He looked up, a frown settled on his face. "I was the only healer for a long time but the King believes that with my age, I need help. He brought in another healer so that I can focus my abilities on helping the princess. Not that I seem to be making much headway if you're here."

"The king is too busy with trying to run the kingdom. I do not see him often unless I find something else that may help the princess," the healer paused, tilting his head to the side. "I proposed to the queen that we should bring you here. I have not been able to help, nor have the many healers across the kingdom that have come to try and help. She was on board the moment that I suggested it. I know that it is not likely you can help with a curse but we should exhaust every option that we possibly can to help save the princess before... before it is too late."

Geralt found himself ignoring the healer until he spoke of a new addition to the court. So the king had brought in a complete stranger to his court? If anyone was providing the king with a poison, it had to be this character. Lost in his own thoughts, Geralt didn't look up to the healer until he stopped speaking. "I believe that's all I need." He kept the man's gaze for a moment, his eyes burning alight at the prospect of finding out who was hurting the princess.

Being a man of few words, Geralt turned to leave the greenhouse, hoping he wouldn't have to come and beat on this man's door again.

It happened to turn out, that this mysterious healer hired by the king appeared to be a very busy man and had no time to entertain the witcher. Being turned away from his door, Geralt beat his fist heavily against the wood, snarling as he ground his teeth together. He hated being surrounded by such royal pricks. Soldiers on either side of the door moved forward forcing the witcher back. Turning to the left, he huffed, dropping his shoulders in a sign of defeat.

"I will return." He called through the door, his voice loud and booming. There was no doubt the mysterious potion-maker on the inside didn't hear him. Rushing past him, Geralt saw a maid carrying a tray with soup on it, heading in the direction of the princess's room. The soup... He began to follow the maid back to Sassanra's room, deciding to investigate a different lead if his main suspicion was tied up at the moment.

He waited down at the stairs for the maid to return from Sassanra's room. She hesitated before passing the witcher, giving him a slight look out of the corner of her eye. He couldn't tell if it was terror, disgust, or curiosity. He sighed anyway, dropping his arms that were crossed over his chest before he made his way up the stairs. He tapped against the door with the back of his knuckles, before pushing the door open. "Sassanra?"

@ castle.