"Amanda..."
Looking at the familiar figure enveloped entirely in flames, Roger was utterly stunned.
"You're not…"
Before he could finish his sentence, the searing flames surged, consuming Roger's body and instantly reducing his clothes to nothing.
Amanda, with a hint of dominance, wrapped her arms around Roger's neck, her crimson lips silencing the remainder of his words.
The night was enchanting, and under the blaze of the flames, the two laid themselves bare to one another.
In such a moment, words were clearly superfluous.
"Still the same familiar taste, still the same familiar formula," Roger murmured with genuine emotion.
"It seems the Western World really suits my personality better."
The banquet in the hall continued, while Roger basked in the long-lost fervor.
The night passed without another word.
Morning.
The first rays of sunlight pierced through the mist and illuminated the room at the top of Kaer Morhen.
