‘Cirilla,’ Emhyr said ignoring the sarcasm, ‘is going to Nilfgaard. In due time she will become the Empress. Like dozens of girls who become queens, without previously knowing her husband. Often times it without a good concept of the first encounter with their husband. Often they are disappointed by the first few days... and nights of marriage. Cirilla is not the first.’
Geralt declined to comment.
‘Cirilla,’ continued the Emperor, ‘will be happy, like most of the queens I just spoke about. It will come with time. I will not demand love from her but will transfer it to the son that Cirilla will bear for me. Archduke and future Emperor. An Emperor, who will beget a son. A son who will be ruler of the world and who will save the world from destruction. So says the prophecy, whose precise content, only I know...’
The White Flame thought for a moment and continued.
‘It is clear that Cirilla must never know who I really am. The secret must die. Along with those who know it.’
‘Sure’ Geralt nodded. ‘It could not be clearer.’
‘You cannot help noticing,’ Emhyr said after a moment, ‘the hand of fate in everything that has happened. All of it. Also in your actions. From the very beginning.’
‘Rather, I see the hand of Vilgefortz. It was he who sent you to Cintra, right? When you were an enchanted hedgehog? It was he who made Pavetta...’
‘You are shooting in the dark,’ Emhyr interrupted abruptly, throwing his salamander cloak over his shoulder. ‘You don’t know anything. And you don’t need to know. I did not ask you here to relate the story of my life. Nor to explain myself to you. The only thing you deserve is to ensure that the girl will come to no harm. I do not have any debts to you, witcher. No...’
‘You!’ Geralt interrupted. ‘You broke a signed contract. You broke your word! You lied! These are your debts, Duny! You broke your oaths as a prince, and you have debts as an Emperor. With imperial interest. For ten years!’
‘Is that all?’
‘That’s it. Because that is all that is mine, nothing more. But no less! I had to introduce myself to collect the girl when she turned six. I waited on the agreed upon date, but you wanted to steal the child before that time. But the fates, of which you speak, have mocked you. During the next ten years you tired to fight destiny. Now it is your turn, you have Ciri, your own daughter, who you once shamefully deprived of parents and with whom you now want to shamelessly spawn incestuous offspring. You don’t ask for her love? Pah, you don’t have the right to her love! Between us, Duny, how can you look her in the eyes?’
‘The end justifies the means,’ the Emperor said flatly. ‘I do it for the future of the world. For its salvation.’
‘If you have to save the world like this,’ the witcher lifted his head, ‘this world would be better off disappearing. Believe me, Duny; it would be better to perish.’
‘You are weak,’ Emhyr var Emreis said gently. ‘Do not get excited, you look like you’re about to faint.’
He moved from the cabinet, pulled up a chair and sat down. The witcher’s head was indeed spinning.
‘The Iron Hedgehog,’ Emhyr var Emreis said calmly and quietly, ‘was a way of forcing my father to cooperate with the usurper to the throne. After the coup, my father, the Emperor was deposed, imprisoned and tortured. He did not break; however, because the usurping Duke devised something else – before his eyes, he had a hired sorcerer turn his only son into a monster. The sorcerer also had a sense of humour. In our language, Emhyr means hedgehog. My father did not break then, so he was killed. I was driven by mockery and insults to the forest and chased by dogs. Fortunately they did not pursue me too fiercely, because the sorcerer botched the job, and from midnight until dawn I returned to human form, it saved my life. I was just thirteen years old. I knew several people on whose fidelity I could rely on. But even so, I had to flee the country. A crackpot astrologer called Xarthisius had read in the stars that the cure to the spell could be found in the North, beyond the Marnadal Steps. Later, as the Emperor, I gave him in payment for his services a tower and good equipment. At that time he had to work with borrow equipment. As for what happened at Cintra, you already know, and I won’t waste your time. The truth is that Vilgefortz had nothing to do with it. First, I still didn’t know him. And second, I still felt a deep aversion to sorcerers. To this day, I still do not like them. Oh by the way, when I reclaimed the throne, I apprehended the sorcerer who had served the usurper and who had turned me into a monster in front of my father. I, too, showed a sense of humour. The sorcerer’s name was Braathens, which in our language is the same as the word “fried”. Well, enough digression, back to the subject at hand. After the birth of Ciri, Vilgefortz secretly visited me in Cintra. He introduced himself as a confidant of those who remained faithful to me in Nilfgaard. He offered me his help and soon demonstrated that he could help. When I asked incredulously the motives for his actions, he did not deny relying on my gratitude. His plans were to win wealth and power, which the future Emperor of Nilfgaard would provide him – me. A mighty ruler who would rule half the world and raise offspring, who would dominate the whole world. The wizard bluntly admitted that he wish to achieve a high position. The he pulled out a scroll tied with snakeskin and acquainted me with the content. So I knew of the prophecy, I learned about the future fate of the world and I realised what I must do. And I have come to believe that the end justifies the means.’
‘Of course.’
