Original subtitles

Vespula? Vespula!

Are you even listening?

What does Radovid even mean, I see people?

How does he know what I see? I mean, he's only met me, like, twice.

Nah... You can't play a player. That's what I always say.

He's hiding something, and if I'm gonna help Geralt,

I need to find out what that is.

Because Geralt is...

a hammer.

You know?

You're confused.

All right... Wait... Okay. Ah...

When you're a hammer, every problem is a nail.

You see a nail and you're like, "Grrr. Fuck this nail."

"Fuck this nail, in particular." And you hammer the nail.

But sometimes the problem is something else.

Sometimes the problem is, uh... a bunch of petunias,

or a bowl of... porridge, and you can't hammer a bowl of porridge.

I mean, you can try, but then your hammer gets all gunked up,

porridge goes everywhere, and then you have... no porridge.

The solution requires

a different kind of tool.

And Radovid... is that tool.

Radovid is... a spoon.

- Oh, obviously. - Obviously. Yeah.

Aah... Yeah, I'm aware this doesn't make a lot of sense.

What I'm trying to say is, the problem is different.

The solution needs to be different.

And Radovid... is different.

He's intelligent. He tries to hide it, but he's insightful.

Sharp... like a knife.

If he's a knife, I need to keep him away from Geralt.

You like him!

Who, Geralt? Yeah, I guess.

Platonically, and occasionally with great effort, as one would a family goat.

- Hang on, when did you get dressed? - I mean the spoon guy.

What, Radovid? No!

- Yes. - No!

I've cursed you for chasing tail of every kind.

Men, women, dwarves,

elves, polymorphous...

That was one time and I... regret nothing.

- It was amazing. - Hmm.

But never have I ever seen you have a crush.

- A crush? - Mmm.

Oh, you think I have crushes.

Mmm-hmm.

- Crushes are for children, my darling. - Mmm?

- I have mind-bending... - Mmm?

...world-ending,

heart-wrenching affairs.

Whatever you say.

- The Lothario of Lyria. - Oh!

- The Romancer of Redania! - Aah!

The Stud of Cidaris!

Jaskier.

For fuck's...

Sorry. It's the family goat.

Good to see you too. How'd it go?

Not quite as expected.

Did you find the castle?

Please tell me you killed Firefingers.

Rience wasn't there.

I did find something else, though.

Yeah, and what's that?

Her.

And she is?

I don't know.

Ooh, ooh... ooh!

But she thinks she's Ciri.

Always a source. No room for...

I hate you. Ooh!

It's all right... Ciri.

This is a friend.

I'm Jaskier.

Always a source. No room for vermin.

- Always. - Fuck. Is she all right?

She was part of an experiment.

- Don't be... - The only survivor.

She has lucid moments, but reverts back to this.

Whatever she's rambling about,

it's stuck in her head in a nonsensical loop.

I need to find out why.

Please tell me you have a plan.

We're taking her to Anika.

If this is an enchantment, she'll be able to fix it.

And who's Anika?

She's a druid. And a friend of my mother's.

Yep, it's him all right.

Smelled you from two hilltops away.

What are you doing here, Otto?

Blame the heightened senses, but we both know you're a ripe old bugger.

I suppose you're here for a reason.

- Hello, Anika. - Wait. Just...

She's missed you too.

Come on.

Whew! Oh, that burns.

That burns like a Raróg's arsehole.

- What is it? - Uh, that's table salt.

Yeah.

Ooh-hoo.

Yep, that's just, uh... that's just table salt.

That's not, um... not very druidic.

- I'm not a druid. - Oh, right.

I'm a werewolf.

Whoa. What? You're... What? Uh, a...

I was bit, back in the plague of '21.

Went out to the woods to isolate. Avoid the disease.

Was so worried about boils and shitting myself to death,

I wasn't thinking about werewolves.

Priority, yeah. I get it.

Geralt was hired by the villagers to kill me.

He found me a cure instead.

- Kept close to my chest, it keeps me safe. - Oh.

Almost got himself killed in the process, but...

he saved my life.

Yeah. Seems about right.

I don't know...

How'd you and Otto meet?

It was about a year ago.

We were at the Temple of Truth. Mourning.

His wife, Edwina, was killed in a fire. The children too.

I was there for Visenna.

She's dead?

She talked about you a lot at the end.

Well, whoever did this fucked her up pretty good.

It's a mind-control enchantment.

Mind control?

So someone needs her to believe she's Ciri.

It's extremely powerful.

Elements of Chaos, druidic magic,

even some ancient elven sorcery in the spell.

Oh, that's another thing. She's part elven.

Maybe a couple of generations removed, but still.

Poor girl's head's a tangled mess.

Who would have the power to do this?

I don't know anyone with the knowledge to do this.

It would take lifetimes to acquire all these tricks.

Whoever this mage is, they have quite a variety of interests.

An extraction elixir.

Well done, Otto.

Ah, it'll take a while, and there's no guarantee.

If it works, she'll be able to tell us who did this.

And what they want with Ciri.

This is the dwarven bank.

- I thought we were going to Aretuza. - We are.

But as you said yourself, there's always more to the picture.

- Aah! - My eyes deceive me!

For surely, a creature this beautiful cannot be real!

My sweet Yennefer,

it is the most sumptuous of pleasures, as always.

- The pleasure is all mine, Giancardi. - Mmm!

Please, take a seat while we finalize your arrangements.

Horror! Pure 'orror on my family's faces,

as they watched me dragged away to certain death,

their own fate hanging in the balance.

When who should appear? A goddess from the heaven?

Better! Yennefer of Vengerberg.

She blasted the villainous wretches into dust.

You exaggerate my heroism.

Nonsense.

This is why the Giancardi Bank, mind well the name,

will do anything for a friend.

For your other matter,

my most secure vault is yours.

Thank you.

If it's not too much to ask, I have one more favor.

- Sure. - My ward needs a chaperone.

- Say no more. - What?

Fabio is at your disposal.

I thought you said this was important for my future.

It is. But first, my past must be settled.

I know you're nervous. Let me be there with you.

There.

Now you look ordinary.

Stop that.

No one is after you here. You're just a normal girl having fun.

Take this. Buy something nice.

Now, let me see that talisman you're constantly fiddling with.

What's that for?

A locator spell.

If you get into any trouble, hold this tight and recite the chant.

But don't get into any trouble.

Your Highness...

Your Highness, uh...

there seems to be some confusion among your advisors.

Yes!

- Did you see that? - Yes, very good.

Whispers of a meeting with an emissary from Nilfgaard?

Oh, that. Yes.

We brokered a deal.

Quite a good one. In the inevitable event of their push North,

Nilfgaard has agreed to leave Redania untouched.

And they're offering half of Temeria as a vassal state.

Oh, pray tell, my lord, what's the return on this generous Nilfgaardian investment?

Oh, nothing we can't afford.

"We"?

And, should we find her first, we turn the Princess of Cintra over to them.

You are being conned!

With all due respect, sir, Nilfgaard are playing you for a fool.

With all due respect, Dijkstra,

you provide the intelligence, I make the decisions.

Pardon, your Grace...

Queen Hedwig sent me to see

if you're finished with the, uh... important affairs of state?

She said to tell you they're here. In case you wanted to say, uh... hello.

Oh, yes. Quite finished.

But you've still got two more serves.

It can wait. My sweet Hedwig can't.

Sire, as your most senior advisor, I cannot stress enough that...

You stress too much.

The only reason you have any power here, Sigismund, is because of me.

Don't forget that.

He doesn't take a shit without me knowing about it.

No one gets a private audience with him outside my purview.

Radovid told us they did. He was right. And they're doing it again.

Vizimir's not scheming alone.

Queen Hedwig has been in such a useful mood of late.

Perhaps it's time to make her useful to us.

Or should I do it?

No. You have enough fires to fight.

Hmm.

Speaking of fires, annoyingly, I met another dead end

through that portal in the shape of an artsy-fartsy crafting studio.

Apparently, Rience is being backed by someone with appalling taste.

I meant the portal itself. You said it felt different. More powerful.

Perhaps it's time to reach out to one of your old community.

- Tissaia might be useful. - Ooh...

I only mean that if what the bard says is true,

the witcher is on our scent.

If he gets to Rience first, we lose the girl.

And our leverage.

Which is why we must both act now.

You know as well as I do, there are many ways to persuade the stubborn.

Use Radovid. Time for him to cut his teeth.

Yes, Dijkstra.

Use me.

Shall I, uh... chat with kitchen hands?

Uh, watch for shady carriages rolling up?

Shadow my brother's wife?

You seem nowhere close to finding this powerful Princess Cirilla.

You're just so busy with your royal duties,

I dare not split your focus.

I don't need your help.

Well, tell that to your king.

And your boss.

You came.

Strange, isn't it?

Men bleed and kill for this stuff.

Only to let it rust.

In dark rooms.

Because it's worthless.

It's too soft to make anything useful.

You can't eat it. Can't fuck it.

Though the King of Aedirn used to like to try.

Its power comes from believing in its value.

An illusion designed to control the masses.

The leader of the Brotherhood should know all about that.

She seems to know everything else.

You know, it started to gnaw at me, back in Ellander.

Northerners killing their own.

The whispers of a dozen bounties on Cirilla of Cintra.

When last everyone knew, she was killed in the slaughter.

I think you learned Cirilla was alive and shared the news,

hoping to curry favor with the Northern kings.

Except no one can find her. The Brotherhood is on their shit list,

and they're so focused on terrorizing an orphan

that they can't see an empire waiting to destroy them.

Curry favor?

I don't know what's more insulting.

That you think my goals so basic,

or that you free a Nilfgaardian prisoner of war,

then lecture me on Northern unity.

What mess will you leave us with this time?

I have been a mess.

And I'm sorry.

When I tried to kill myself at Aretuza, I was so desperate to control my destiny.

You weren't taking control. You were losing it.

I know.

And I still feel like that sometimes.

Like I'm at a loss.

Rience. A fire mage.

He's after Cirilla too, but someone far more powerful is backing him.

We can't let him get to her.

You want me to help hide a princess whose existence means war?

I want more than that.

She's extraordinary.

She's the rightful heir to Cintra and a great deal more, so I'm told.

If war is coming, there is no hiding her from it.

Well, then, maybe she can lead us out of it.

For all the Brotherhood's faults, they respect magic.

She deserves to know what hers is capable of.

She deserves control of her destiny.

Please.

Please help me make this right. For us.

For her.

After all this time...

After all your searching, you actually did it.

Did what?

Became a mother.

Smart rates for a smart lady.

- Giancardi Bank, mind well the name. - Yes, that's four.

- Smart rates for a smart gentleman. - No thanks, son.

- Smart rates for a smart lady? - Oh, piss off.

Smart rates. Come by Giancardi Bank, mind well the name, to open an account.

Yeah, go on, then.

Smart rates for a smart lady.

Maybe you'd have better luck if you didn't want it so bad.

Maybe I'd have better luck

if I wasn't with a girl who pounds donuts like a truffle pig.

- Want one? - I'm wheat intolerant.

Come by Giancardi Bank, mind well the name, sir.

What's that place?

Thanedd Island.

Home to Aretuza. That's the Tower of the Gull. Tor Lara.

Looks scary, doesn't it?

Legend has it, they take failing novices to the caves below the tower

and turn them into eels.

Sounds more exciting than this market.

Spectacles here would haunt you to your deathbed, you rude little duck's arse.

Try me.

♪ All hail Cintra ♪

♪ Nilfgaard ever more ♪

♪ And I wave the flag of Nilfgaard ♪

♪ Nilfgaard ever more! ♪

Nilfgaard!

Anyone give you any trouble?

Please. No one gives a shit about this ancient elven garbage.

- Where's the book? - There's no book on monotones.

- Monoliths. - Whatever.

There is. I've been researching for months.

Codringher and Fenn confirmed it was buried in a Xin'trean cavern.

Where is the book?

If you let me finish, the book of whatever had already been recovered.

- I assumed it'd been sent to you. - Why would you assume that?

'Cause it went to Aretuza.

By order of the emperor himself.

You owe me 20 marks, Isturd.

It's Istredd.

Whatever.

All hail the White Flame.

Thought I was gonna shit my kecks comin' through those gates.

Never seen anything quite like this place.

Well, you just wait.

If the Emperor likes our proposal, you could be seeing a lot more of it.

My man says you're from the Scoia'tael front.

What news do you bring, son?

Gallatin, sir.

Bad news. We're getting slaughtered.

Forgive me. I'm a fighter, not a politician.

I don't really know how to sugarcoat the truth.

All the better for it.

Continue.

I've been a soldier all my life.

I take no pleasure in jumping rank.

But Francesca has been siphoning off our best fighters, our resources,

leading my men on side missions straight to their graves.

Well, Francesca has made many sacrifices for her people.

What makes you think her choices can't be trusted?

Her choices are in defiance of your orders, sir.

She's not fighting to soften the North. She's searching for a girl.

I'd like you to stay awhile.

We can resolve this issue, I have no doubt.

- Make sure this man is fed. - My lord.

Thank you.

Thank you, my lord.

I knew your righteousness would prevail.

Is this a manipulation to end your punishment?

Because, don't forget, it was deceit that got you where you are now.

No, my lord.

I would not lie about this.

I asked for a private audience to protect your secret.

But Cirilla... Cirilla is out there.

I am having dreams about her.

- She wants me to find her. - You tried that once.

You failed.

My lord, I have been in the field. Gallatin is a good fighter.

He knows the land. The elves are loyal to him.

He can deliver us the North.

Division among the elves would only hurt our cause on both fronts.

But, uh...

an army is only as good as its leader, uh...

I know a good leader when I see one.

It gave me... no pleasure to punish you.

But I had to know you could be trusted.

That I had not lost you.

Are you ready to come home, Cahir?

Yes.

Prove it.

I think you've chopped enough wood here for... two,

maybe three centuries of fire.

What's the plan, Geralt?

We wait for her to wake up, make sure she's okay,

find Rience and the mage that did this, and kill them.

And then what?

Yarpen told me he saw you talking to Philippa Eilhart in Ban Gleán.

It's okay, Jaskier.

What did Dijkstra want you to do?

He wanted me to convince you

to take Ciri to Redania.

And I agree with him.

She'd be safe with an army, an entire army at her back.

Ciri would be nothing more than a brood mare on the Cintran throne.

She's a princess, Geralt.

That's what princesses do.

They sit on little royal thrones and they have little royal babies.

And they rule kingdoms. This is what Ciri wants.

Does she want to be a political pawn for Vizimir and Dijkstra?

- No... - No.

We stay the course.

Neutrality has consequences too.

There are already consequences, Jaskier. And not just for Ciri.

I thought by taking her off the board, the world would stop trying to use her.

Instead, they're trying to use others in her place.

And they will continue to.

Because that is what people in power do.

But she's not a witcher.

She's certainly not an Aretuzan witch sourcing magic out of... stones, or hemp,

or plants, or whatever it is that Yennefer does.

She's a princess.

I think you should trust her.

Her source.

Her... what now?

You're right.

I'm right...

Well, that's deeply worrying. What?

Geralt...

- I need you to wake up. - Geralt, no.

- It's too soon. - Can you hear me?

You could hurt the extraction spell.

You said there was always a source.

What did you mean?

Always a source to what?

Magic.

Can you tell me your name?

Teryn.

Good.

Something happened that affected your mind.

Do you remember what happened?

I was dragged from my room.

Yes.

By a man.

A man with a scar?

Careful, Geralt.

He was there. Sometimes.

And the woman with the funny voice.

They all helped the man.

The man, he...

He always scared me.

You knew him.

At school.

At Aretuza.

Oh...

We need to put her back under.

- I need a name. - I'll grab elixir.

It's all right.

- Just say it. - What was his name, Teryn?

Stupid witcher.

You're doomed and you don't even know it.

I am Cirilla's destiny.

May all ye wail,

for the Destroyer of Nations is upon us.

Anika!

Geralt!

Jaskier, the amulet!

No, no, no, no. Teryn. Teryn!

Jaskier!

Geralt!

Ah! Aah...

Shh, shh.

Shh, shh.

Roll up! Roll up!

Roll up!

See with your own eyes

the most frightful creature the gods ever created!

A live basilisk, the venomous terror of the Zerrikanian desert!

An insatiable man-eater!

- Only 15 groats. - Told you.

That's 15 groats, yeah? Hey, you, hop it.

15 groats, everyone. Yeah, go on. Pay the money to the boy.

In you go. Enjoy. In you go.

Enjoy the show. Enjoy the show.

Come on, hurry up!

Careful. These beasts are notoriously unpredictable.

I've fought enough of them to know.

Hey, let's get to the front.

- That cage looks small. - Maybe it's a baby basilisk.

That would be a rip-off. How scary could that be?

You'd be surprised.

They are unpredictable.

And unpredictable means trouble.

What's wrong with a little trouble?

A lot if you've lived my life.

That sounds like a challenge.

Ladies and gentlemen!

The king of all serpents.

'Tis a most rare monster.

Hatching from an egg only laid by a knavish cockerel, well!

Who presents his rump to another...

in the manner of a horny hen!

Ooooh!

Cock-a-doodle-doo-ooh-ooh!

Ta-da!

An egg that must be brooded

by a hundred and one venomous snakes.

Good people, keep your distance.

Its breath alone could poison you.

That's not a basilisk.

Stop interrupting, love.

When the basilisk hatches,

it devours the snakes, imbibing their venom.

And when a knight stabs it with his sword,

the poison runs up the blade, killing the knight...

Chhkk, chhkk! Outright.

That is the falsest lie.

'Tis the truest truth.

That's why a basilisk can only be killed by seeing its reflection in the mirror.

Quite right, sir!

- Don't. - No, you're all wrong. This is a wyvern.

And it's young, and it's starving because you're keeping it in this cage!

Listen, darlin', if you don't like my little show,

why don't you just piss off and shut up?

Oi, oi, you little shit!

This girl is under the protection of Giancardi Bank.

Mind well the name, arsehole.

Where's my knife?

Here!

Who is she? Is she okay?

Get off of her, devil dog!

You saved me, brave knight!

We have a hero in our midst!

- He saved us all! - I did?

- I did! - I have to get out of here!

That was fucking incredible! Did you see me hit that guy?

- Yennefer will kill me. - I'll get fired, I don't even care!

- Where the fuck's my money? - I can travel.

- Kick arse through this fucking Continent! - Where's my money?

Hey, trouble!

You were great in there.

Fucking hell.

I've gotta go. Thank you.

- Where are you goin'? - And good luck kicking arse!

Where are you, Yennefer?

Another runaway. You've had your fun, novice.

- Back to the dorms. - Get your hands off me!

You will address me as Mistress Laux-Antille.

And you'll clean the toilets for your impertinence.

I'll take it from here.

Yen.

What are you doing here?

Bringing my ward to get a proper education,

one she obviously sorely needs.

Forgive her, Rita.

So this is the girl.

Don't look at her.

Look at me.

Don't you dare take your eyes off me.

That's enough introductions.

As an apology for her impudence, allow me to treat you ladies to some luxury.

Thank gods, I'm bored.

Shall we take the waters at the Silver Heron?

Don't threaten me with a good time.

Hands off. He's mine.

I wasn't planning on using my hands.

Fuck magic, let's stay here.

If this place ever closes, I'll burn this fucking city to the ground.

Here, girl!

Novices these days are useless.

- Mmm. - Not like when we were girls.

I told you to bring the wine.

I'm surprised you can taste anything at this point.

Are you calling me a lush?

Better a lush than a traitor.

Tell me, Yennefer.

Are the rumors about witchers true?

That their mutations make them impotent?

- You're fucking a witcher? - Atrocious, isn't it?

- Almost as atrocious as your manners. - Mmm.

Ooh.

Perhaps instead of dwelling on the past, focus our attention on the future.

I wanted red!

Here.

We deserve a drink.

After all the fires we've been putting out between kingdoms.

Fires we didn't start.

Damned Cintran princess.

- What's so special about her, anyway? - Mmm.

Girl, the wine! Now.

Get it yourself.

She'll only screw it up.

Besides, I know where the good stuff is.

- What the hell is wrong with you? - Shut the fuck up.

- Before you spoil everything. - I can't spoil something already rotten!

This place, these women, it's horrible!

"This place"? You're not a princess here.

You're a low-level novice. Get used to being treated like one.

Entitlement will get you nowhere.

I don't want to do this.

You know, I don't want to do this either.

Tomorrow I'll be expected to crawl back to the Brotherhood,

tail between my legs, begging for forgiveness.

And I'll do it.

Because Aretuza is my best hope of protecting you from those who hunt you.

Our best chance to be safe.

- You have to go along to get along. - To what end?

If I can't learn to control my powers, will you let Tissaia turn me into an eel?

And if I do become some powerful, learned Aretuzan maid,

will you let her scrape out my insides

to become vapid and power-hungry like your friends out there?

Tissaia is one of the most powerful sorceresses on this Continent!

You should be grateful she's willing to teach you!

Just because she saved you

does not mean you owe her the rest of your life.

You told me to never apologize for my power,

and yet that's all you seem to do.

You want to be a great leader? You want to change the world?

Well, the day-to-day of leading

is dealing with a lot of vapid, power-hungry arseholes!

I'm not Geralt.

This isn't Kaer Morhen.

This is the version of myself I have to be here.

So you need to find a version of yourself that can deal with that.

Trust me, I know you're not Geralt.

He would never sell his soul like this.

It's all right.

Thanks to Otto.

I've never seen someone make a potion so fast.

You taught him well.

Just like Visenna taught me.

Did she suffer?

She was mistaken for an elf while helping a villager.

She was beaten very badly.

Does that make you feel better or worse?

I never wanted her to hurt.

- Just wanted her to know what she did. - Oh, she knew.

Love for a child forces parents to make the hardest choices of their lives.

Impossible ones, even.

Chances are, they toil over it for the rest of their lives.

I do remember bits of our life.

She smelled like embers.

From keeping those measly fires alive for the long nights.

I remember my hunger.

And her stomach growling twice as loud as mine.

She used her magic

to create elaborate meals that we couldn't afford.

I would have done anything to make her smile.

And yet...

the day she left me,

she was sick.

She needed water, so I went to get her some.

And when I came back...

she was gone.

I called for her.

But she was gone.

She loved you the best she could.

To save you, she had to let you go.

- This can't have been the only choice. - It wasn't.

It's simply the one she made.

And now you have your own impossible decision.

I won't abandon Ciri.

Even if it costs me my life.

Teryn.

Can she stay here, while I work out how to help her?

- Mmm, of course. - Thank you.

Where are you going?

Aretuza.

Are you all right?

No.

The magic is one thing.

- But the politics... - Hmm.

Even if I can curry enough favor to get back into the Brotherhood's fold

and get her trained, you're right.

War is coming, and she's at the center of it.

Mages have kept kings in check for centuries.

- We'll find a way. - Toxicity's infectious.

The kings have turned against each other. How long before mages follow suit?

If we are to unite the North, we must be united.

A conclave.

What?

We host a conclave of mages.

- We haven't had one since before Sodden. - And then we went to war.

So we do it differently this time.

Instead of discord and debate, we focus on trust.

Togetherness.

Is this also the girl's doing?

If we have any hope of appealing to the kings,

we first have to find better versions of ourselves.

I'm willing to try.

Are you?

Geralt.

Hey, Geralt, where are you?

Geralt, where are you?

Who's Geralt?

Where are you?

He's coming. Now.

We'll meet again soon.

I understand your concerns. But I've made up my mind.

This Cirilla nonsense is too much of a headache.

I couldn't agree more, Your Majesty.

But bargaining with Nilfgaard is not the answer.

- The queen is opinionated and strong. - Like a bull.

And Radovid is eager to please. But all three of you are far too important

to burden yourself with the minutiae of Redanian intelligence.

What would you suggest?

Hope I'm not interrupting. Uh, this was left with my manservant.

- The note says it's for you. - Oh.

A present.

"Courtesy of Nilfgaard." See, I told you, Dijkstra.

They're not so ba...

I want men on every door and window. Nobody in or out but me!

Tell the gatekeeper to scout the perimeter.

Bring me Radovid's manservant immediately!

With me! Now!

Man on every door! We've got intruders!

I swear to you, I will not let them get away with this.

Guard the gates!

- Come. Come. - Secure the perimeter!

- Through that gate! - By me!

- Through there, now! - Come.

- Take the king to his chambers. - My lord.

Hmm.

Mmm. Hah!

You.

All that talk of... making the queen more useful.

You and Philippa did this.

You won't get away with it.

Huh.

It's treason.

- I'll tell my brother. - Tell him what, exactly?

That his strong, opinionated queen, gods rest her soul,

went a little rogue in the secret meetings,

and deserved to be assassinated?

On your watch?

- He trusted you. - Trusts.

He trusts me.

Now more than ever.

I am his most important advisor.

Whereas you are a weak, silly, ineffectual little shit

who just delivered his wife's head to him in a box.

Well, now I come to think of it,

how do we know you weren't involved in her treachery?

You want to help? Go back to sucking on the royal teat

until you're just drunk enough to forget this terrible tragedy.

And keep your mouth shut.

Because next time, it could be your head in a box.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Mmm.

Enough.

Aah!

Oh, I wish you were there today.

I mean, I knew Hedwig had a thick neck,

but gods, that was a workout to cut through.

Mmm.

I wonder what Dijkstra thought of my pièce de résistance.

Mmm.

No one ever expects a head in a box, do they?

- It doesn't make any sense. - Hmm?

Emhyr uses mages for cannon fodder, not emissaries.

The woman you saw in the meeting didn't move her mouth.

Oh, well, it takes all sorts, I suppose.

Unless she was using telepathy.

Hmm.

But how did she manage to portal into the palace

and through my protection enchantments?

Maybe because the portal was special?

A portal is a portal.

I've seen your portals.

This wasn't that.

This was a swirling black vortex of fucking unnervingness.

The mage backing Rience...

works for Nilfgaard.

Fuck me.

The only reason I fucking agreed to do this job

is because you told me you didn't work for Nilfgaard.

I don't. I work for my lord.

Who works for fucking Nilfgaard!

Oh, Rience, don't get so agitated. It makes you uglier.

As for my lord, working with Nilfgaard is not the same as working for Nilfgaard.

The White Flame is just a means to an end.

A small piece of a much bigger puzzle.

Don't worry your hideous little face.

At least I still have a face.

Instead of just the illusion of one.

Tell him I'm growing tired of being kept in the dark.

If he wants me to go along with his little plan,

I have a demand of my own.

Hey.

You... are exhausted.

- You need to eat. - Not until they do.

What news from the scouts?

There was a rumor that she was spotted in Maribor. Nothing came of it.

And Gallatin?

He's headed to Xin'trea with the roundy general.

So perhaps it would be wise to consider

an escape plan.

The only escape I'll take is death, Filavandrel.

I don't miss the snobbery of the city, but shit, I do miss the services.

Your White Flame sure knows how to host.

Well...

I suppose it's not hard

to impress a backwards pointy like you, though, is it?

I'd rather be a backwards pointy invited to the palace

than the rich little shit who got kicked out of it.

That's not fair. I lost my money long before I was kicked out.

My father was the nobleman.

He expected me to have a disposition of a diplomat like my brothers.

But I was impetuous. Short temper, rash judgment.

- That's why I like fighting. - You? No.

Well, if we've moved onto the emotional story-swapping part of our friendship,

I think we'd have got on as kids.

We may have burned down a town or two on accident, but... still.

When the Usurper took Nilfgaard, he enslaved my father and my brothers.

He was afraid of their strength and their ability to someday take revenge, but...

but I was...

I was just a little boy, I was...

too weak for concern.

I was left to starve or die.

Cahir, I've known you to march into battle

with little more than a breastplate made of chicken bones and a stick for a sword.

Fuck the Usurper. He was an idiot.

That's what the White Flame said to me when he came to free me.

"The Usurper was a fool to let you go, son,

because you are the strongest of them all."

Well, I suppose you're strong for a scrawny little...

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry it had to be this way.

Ciri...

Cirilla!

Cirilla!

Cirilla!

Cirilla!

No. You're ghosts. Corpses.

Yes, we are corpses, but you are death itself!

Join us.

You found me.

They were real.