A tsunami of excitement crashed over him, causing his body to tremble uncontrollably.
He stretched out his hands... those hands that had once been as steady as a rock, wielding royal power.
Now, however, they were shaking violently in mid-air, frozen.
He didn't dare to touch Adda, fearing that this was merely an overly realistic illusion.
And that the slightest touch would shatter like a bubble, throwing him back into the abyss of despair.
His lips quivered as he tried to say something, but only meaningless "ho ho" sounds escaped.
His eyes were filled with ecstasy, fear, and an almost pleading, disbelieving expression.
Karl understood Foltest's feelings at this moment; he didn't say much, only slightly adjusted his posture.
Then, carefully and steadily, he gently handed the still unconscious Adda, whom he held in his arms, towards Foltest's trembling arms.
When the weight of his daughter's body truly settled into his embrace, that heavy, warm sensation permeated through the thick cloak, he suddenly shuddered.
It wasn't a dream! This wasn't an illusion! His Adda... had truly returned!
"Ugh ah..." A long-suppressed sob, mixed with endless pain and immense relief, finally burst from the depths of Foltest's throat.
He suddenly tightened his arms, hugging Adda tightly to his chest, and hot tears instantly overflowed.
They streamed down his weathered cheeks, dripping onto Adda's pale forehead and also onto the dust-stained cloak.
He hunched his not-so-tall body, burying his face in the rough fabric, his shoulders shaking violently as he let out low sobs.
At this moment, Foltest was not the King of Temeria, but merely a fragile and happy father who had recovered his most cherished treasure.
After the surge of emotion had somewhat subsided, he carefully examined Adda's pale yet peaceful sleeping face.
He inadvertently shifted her and noticed a rather prominent bruise on the back of her neck.
"This... Karl, this injury on Adda's neck is...?"
Foltest's fingertips gently brushed the wound, his brows slightly furrowed, and he looked up at Karl with a puzzled expression.
Karl's expression remained unchanged, and he replied calmly, "Your Majesty, Her Royal Highness has just been freed from the curse; her human form, mind, and body have not yet fully adapted."
"When I found her, she seemed very frightened and accidentally fell from beside the sarcophagus during her struggle."
"She hit the back of her neck, which is why she was injured and fell unconscious."
Karl's half-truthful explanation somewhat embellished his earlier action of knocking Adda unconscious.
Foltest looked at his daughter's fragile appearance in his arms, then at Karl's sincere expression, and found the explanation reasonable.
It was entirely imaginable for a young girl, tormented by a curse for years and just recovering, to act erratically.
He nodded, no longer pressing the matter of this small incident.
Joy once again filled his heart, and he looked up, his eyes sparkling with genuine gratitude: "Karl, I... I truly don't know how to thank you; you've achieved what everyone believed was impossible!"
"You saved Adda, and you saved me, and also that Witcher..."
He stopped abruptly at this point, a very unnatural embarrassment flashing across his face.
He recalled his decision made last night under anxiety and suspicion—to disarm and detain the Witcher.
Karl spoke at the opportune moment, leading Foltest out of his embarrassment: "Your Majesty, there's no need to rush with the rewards."
"You look very tired; you must have been up all night. It would be best to take the Princess back to the palace first, and ensure she rests properly."
Only then did Foltest truly realize how terrible his condition was—his whole body ached, and his eyelids felt heavy.
He gave Karl a grateful look, then took a deep breath and turned to the Guards standing by, their expressions varied.
His voice regained its usual authority, but with a hint of barely perceptible apology: "Release the Witcher immediately, and return his weapons and belongings exactly as they were!"
The Guards quickly complied, and Geralt calmly accepted his two swords and equipment, inspecting each item before putting them back on.
He said nothing throughout the entire process, his face still bearing his usual, unreadable, indifferent expression.
Foltest, holding Adda, walked up to Geralt.
The King, who was usually so high and mighty, now bowed his head slightly, his tone sincere.
"Witcher, I offer you my sincerest apologies for my unreasonable suspicions and offensive actions last night, born of worry."
"I misunderstood your professionalism. Please accept my apology."
For a monarch, this was an extremely rare gesture.
Geralt's amber cat eyes gazed calmly at Foltest, and after a few seconds, he nodded slightly.
He responded simply in his deep, hoarse voice: "It's good that the matter is resolved, Your Majesty."
He accepted the apology, but his demeanor remained distant, not appearing flattered or warm despite the King's deference.
His life as a Witcher had made him accustomed to all kinds of emotional humans; understanding did not mean he would easily invest emotionally.
Just then, Geralt's gaze fell upon Adda in Foltest's arms.
More precisely, it fell upon her flowing red hair.
He keenly noticed that among the thick strands of hair were a few very conspicuous pale strands, like withered straw—this was not the condition a healthy young girl should have.
He stepped forward, pointed to the white hair, and said to Foltest with a grave voice: "Your Majesty, please look. There's something unusual in the Princess's hair."
Karl had actually noticed this detail earlier, but Foltest's emotions were too intense at the time, so he chose to delay mentioning it.
Now, he also nodded in confirmation: "Yes, Your Majesty. I saw it too; this doesn't seem to be a good sign."
Foltest's heart immediately jumped, and he quickly parted Adda's hair carefully, indeed seeing those few striking white strands.
His ecstatic mood was instantly doused with a bucket of cold water.
He looked eagerly at the two heroes who had resolved the curse: "What does this mean? Has the curse not been completely lifted? Is Adda still in danger?"
Geralt slowly shook his head, his tone firm and tinged with a hint of regret: "The main body of the curse has been broken, and the Princess has returned to human form; there's no doubt about that."
"But these residual traces... indicate that the root of the curse has not been completely eradicated."
"It's like a dormant seed, still lurking within the Princess."
"In the future, if subjected to a specific stimulus or when conditions are met... the curse still has the potential to recur. It's best to have the Princess wear an amulet."
Upon hearing this, some color drained from Foltest's face, and disappointment and worry resurfaced: "Even you... can't completely eradicate it?"
Geralt silently shook his head, indicating he was powerless.
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