—
After several long minutes of back-and-forth, with Calanthe using every tactic she knew—intimidation, ridicule, and the same playful sharpness she had once used on Geralt in A Question of Price, though toned down for a child—Gustave finally heard the Queen's confirmation.
He already knew, of course, that she had made up her mind the moment he made his first request. But since Calanthe didn't know the real him, he indulged in this playful battle of wits that only he, as the player, could enjoy.
"In that case, for the sake of our familial ties, I will give my cousin Meve gold to win the war, and arms sufficient to equip her armies. But I am still curious—why are you so adamant about helping your mother? Because as everyone knows, little Gustave, Meve will win the war sooner or later."
"It is because Gustave thinks war is a pointless endeavor, Your Majesty. Especially when the opposition is our own countrymen. It will only drain resources and the valuable lives of common folk—folk who could make the kingdom greater. Like in the book Price of Blades: Industrial Growth in Times of Peace, written by Sigismund Dijkstra. That's why, in Gustave's thoughts, the sooner the war ends, the fewer losses Lyria and Rivia will incur."
"What a load of rubbish. Do you truly imagine kingdoms rise by song and scribbles? Do you think armies march for poetry? War is the whetstone of men, not the muse of children."
Seeing one of the old Strept nobles making a derogatory remark, Calanthe glanced at her castellan. "Haxo, would you mind showing Sir Cerbad to the gate of the palace? The heavy timber of the gate is a perfect listener for someone who wants to voice their opinion."
"M‑my Queen! I‑I didn't mean to offend you!"
"Ha! Take that, you decrepit smelly fart! You dare bully my little Gustave, then you'll get kicked in the ass!"
Before Ciri could even run at the old Strept noble to do exactly that, Vissegerd stepped forward and lifted the princess like a kitten—clearly used to her habit of wanting to throw hands at anyone who annoyed her.
"Easy there, my princess."
"How dare you! Let go of me! I command you as heir to the throne to put me down this instant!"
"True, you are an heir, Princess Ciri. But you are not my Queen just yet. So… if you promise to behave, I'll put you down right now."
"Hmph! No fun!"
Chuckling at her granddaughter's antics, Calanthe turned to Gustave and said, "Now that I've given you my word, you should do your part, little Gustave. From now on, if you want to achieve your goal of creating a flying fleet like dragons: from seven in the morning until five in the evening, you must study at the Chancellor's Court School of Cintra—until you manage to write more books than the seneschal. Got it?"
Gustave looked at Calanthe in silent amusement, fully aware that such a feat would be practically impossible and likely a lifelong endeavor if he were just an ordinary person. He let this twist of words—meant to turn him into a scholarly mule for Ciri—slide without complaint.
Because he knew that if he were in Calanthe's position, he too would scheme and squeeze every advantage he could, no matter who the other party was, all for the sake of the state.
Since, in this world, a word was just a word—easily broken, because deceit ran deep throughout the Continent. That was why he understood where Calanthe was coming from. If this were his Earth, a person's word could still be trusted to some degree, and asking a little in return would be acceptable.
But in the world of The Witcher—a place full of treachery and people eager to use one another—anyone who didn't raise their guard high or demand something significant in return wouldn't survive long. The innocent and the kind would, sooner or later, be kissed goodbye by the world itself.
That was why, even though Calanthe had a good impression of him and still held a trace of familial warmth, she had been raised in a world where trust was scarce. Exaggerated demands became a way to protect oneself—because everyone knew that when someone promised a hundred percent, only ten to forty percent of it was ever likely to be real.
But in the end, Gustave would still complete what Calanthe tasked him with. Not to fulfill his promise—because, to him, writing a couple dozen books would be easy with his [Knowledge], especially since most books in this medieval era were just opinions written at length.
Rather, he would do it because the more Calanthe witnessed his intelligence, the more weight his words would carry when he subtly guided her toward the future alliance of kingdoms he envisioned.
Essentially, he would become a quiet advisor to Cintra without anyone, including Queen Calanthe, realizing it. After all, who in their right mind would pay attention to the ramblings of a child? So while kneeling, he nodded and said, "As you command, Your Majesty."
But it seemed the little she-devil had a different opinion, nearly throwing his entire plan out the window—and proving the old saying who needs enemies when you have friends like these painfully true when it came to this protagonist girl.
"Huh? Wait! Little Gustave will study at the Chancellor's Court School of Cintra all day long?! NOOO!!! I object to this farce at once! Little Gustave is supposed to be my attendant! He's supposed to be my playmate! I object, I object, I object to what Grandmama said!"
Watching her granddaughter's antics—antics that were now very disadvantageous to her—Calanthe couldn't help but facepalm. It was becoming clear that her initial plan to have Gustave study in the magical district had been completely derailed.
After all, just as she had done for Alvin—providing him with a space to demonstrate his extraordinary talent—Calanthe wanted the same opportunity for little Gustave. Essentially, she wanted another prodigy like Alvin: a brilliant young artificer from her House who, after only five years of study under an Ofieri Rune Mage, had become an official Rune Mage himself.
So brilliant, in fact, that he managed to develop a foundational framework from the basic runestones—Stribog, Dazhbog, Zoria, Devana, and Morana—that touched the very fabric and essence of Power, something even the Ofieri continent, despite its highly advanced rune magic, had never achieved.
And now that the brilliant youngster was turning his focus toward studying Space and Time—talents present in the blood of the House of Raven—Calanthe hoped he would eventually uncover a clearer picture of what exactly their bloodline carried, from Pavetta all the way back to their ancestor, Lara Dorren.
But… looking at her granddaughter, Calanthe hesitated. Even though she wanted Gustave to receive the same opportunity Alvin once had, she knew that in the near future she planned to use Ciri's marriage as political subterfuge to shield Cintra from the hungry gazes of the Northern mages.
And considering she intended to bring up this topic shortly after Ciri's parents' deaths—something that would inevitably cause the girl to resent her—Calanthe, in the end, couldn't bring herself to deny her request.
Calanthe knew that even though her granddaughter currently had Cerys and Hjalmar, those two would eventually return to Skellige, leaving only Gustave and Anséis as potential playmates—especially since Ciri could already sense that the other nobles' children approached her only because they wanted something from her.
And since the House of Raven of Cintra no longer had any children close to Ciri's age, allowing Gustave and Anséis to become her companions would be good for her early childhood memories. But because she could not openly reveal her true thoughts for reasons of state, Calanthe simply looked coldly at her granddaughter and said,
"In that case, you should accompany him in his studies, my dear granddaughter Ciri."
"H-huh? A-accompany him in his studies? N-no… I meant… NO!!! I won't allow it! He is supposed to be my playmate! And nothing else! Because we will play together in the square, in the pond, in the garden—everywhere, all day long! And Grandmama will not make Gustave study all the time!"
"Then I will not compromise either! This discussion ends here! Haxo, bring Gustave to his chamber so he can sleep early and be ready for his lessons tomorrow!"
"Huaaa!!! Grandmama is so mean! I hate you!!!"
Vissegard, who couldn't bear seeing Ciri like this—and knowing it would be bad for the kingdom if the last two members of the royal bloodline grew resentful of one another—stepped forward to offer a suggestion that might calm both Queen Calanthe's irritation and Ciri's incessant demands.
"Your Majesty, how about allowing Gustave a few breaks between his studies? That way, Princess Cirilla can play with Prince Gustave whenever they both have time."
"Not only that, Your Majesty—while we all know little Gustave has wisdom beyond his age, it is still not healthy for a child his age to study every single day without any leisure. So perhaps on Melitele's and Lebioda's worship days—Tuesday and Wednesday—Gustave could have some free time. That way, he can also be a proper playmate for Princess Cirilla."
Wiping the tears from her eyes, Ciri jumped up and shouted, "Yes, yes, yes! Absolutely do that! Grandmama, please, please, please…"
"Alright, alright. You may have it your way. Now enjoy the rest of the night with little Gustave, before he needs to sleep so he can wake up tomorrow morning."
"Yay!!!"
—
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I got too caught up playing The Witcher 3. And yes, the Alvin in this story is the same Alvin from The Witcher 1, but with the added origin of being a descendant of Lara Dorren, so his space-and-time abilities don't come out of nowhere.