"Geralt and Yennefer will be informed, after you have safely married," Emhyr said sternly. "I don't care what you think of this arrangement but I just want to make sure Geralt doesn't give you any funny ideas about being a witcher."
"As you wish, father. I will not protest your decision further, " Ciri said. "However, I wish to visit Skellige one last time before my wedding."
"Why? Planning your escape? Remember what I said earlier?" Emhyr said.
Ciri's tears fell. At first, it was an effort to squeeze them out but the more emotional she got, the easier it was. Ciri picked up a nearby cup made of solid gold, she started laughing hysterically.
She laughed at the absurdity of her situation. She remembered Geralt and her happiness as a Witcher's daughter, yet here she was living as an empress eating off gold cutleries and depresssed.
She was about to be married in a dress full of diamonds and here her father was threatening to hurt her friends. She laughed with tears flowing freely and the barks of forced laughter turned to wails of despair.
"Ciri!" Emhyr said in panic. "Stop it!" The golden cup in Ciri's grasp had melted but she was seemingly unhurt by the molten gold dripping from her hand. He clutched her arms and shook her forcefully.
Ciri's unseeing eyes returned to normal. She focused her gaze on him and calmed down gradually. "I wish to remember my carefree, innocent days with Cerys and Hjalmar. That was before you invaded Cintra, before you killed my grandmother," Ciri said.
"I did not personally cause your grandmother's death, she chose to commit suicide by jumping from the walls of the city of Cintra during its seige. If she had only surrendered to the Nilfgaardian forces, she would most likely be alive today," Emhyr said.
"You truly are your mother's daughter," he said, displeasure written all over his face. "Very well, I will allow you to meet your an Craite cousins in Skellige. Your fiancé, Morvran, will be accompanying you."
...
The royal ship set sail for Skellige with the Emperor- and Empress-to be onboard. Ciri was quiet and kept to herself. An unnatural storm was forming on the horizon and the ship's captain was anxious to make it to Skellige before the storm.
Despite the captain's best efforts, the ship was seized by the storm. Ciri was at the ship's stern, unworried of the violent waves that sprayed her, soaking her fine clothes.
The raging sea was threatening to capsize the ship and the ship's crew were panicking, yet Ciri kept standing and staring at the horizon, a serene expression on her face.
That was the last time they saw her.
...
Morvran and the ship's crew survived the storm that wrecked their ship. The ship's crew were interrogated, and Emhyr enlisted the help of Philippa yet no trace of Ciri was found.
Emhyr was not ready yet to announce Ciri's death and launch an empire-wide mourning. He was sure she had escaped.
"Summon the witcher and the sorceress, Yennefer," he commanded.
Geralt arrived with Yennefer, escorted by Nilfgaardian guards.
"Was starting to wonder when you'd be inviting us for Ciri's wedding, if at all," Geralt said.
"Enough. I summoned you both for the sole purpose of answering this question: Where is Ciri?" Emhyr asked.
Geralt's expression changed instantaneously. Yennefer said sharply, "What do you mean, where's Ciri? The last time I saw her, she was on her way to meeting you. She's supposed to be with you."
"So you have no idea where else she could have gone?" Emhyr pressed. "Maybe she had run away and tried to contact you?"
"She ran away?" Geralt spoke, his tone rising. "I spent years searching for her. In the end, when I've finally found her, she told me she wanted to go with you. What have you done to her that made her want to leave?"
Geralt was noticeably distraught. He pointed an accusing finger at Emhyr. "You need to tell me what happened. You're the one who caused all this," he said.
"Ciri was on the ship with her fiancé and the ship was caught in a storm. The crew keep insisting the weather was supposed to be fine and that the storm was unnatural. Are you sure you didn't cause the storm, Yennefer?" Emhyr said.
"You're accusing me of causing the storm?" Yennefer said icily. "I'm not you, I wouldn't do such a thing and risk potentially hurting my daughter."
Philippa entered the room. "Yennefer is right, she did not cause the storm. It was no ordinary storm, magical. But it was not the work of Yennefer or any of our sorceresses as far as I can tell," she said.
Emhyr narrowed his eyes. "What? I'm not saying this out of any particular concern for Yennefer. The storm is the result of a distortion in time and space. A power only Ciri has," Philippa said, crossing her arms.
"However, the energy is wild and uncontrolled, the sort that is released recklessly and be potentially deadly to the one who manifests such power. My only hope is locate her body," she said.
"Yen, what if Ciri's hurt? What if... her body is never found?" Geralt asked, his voice hoarse. Yennefer rubbed his back soothingly.
"Not improbable. I cannot detect any human life force in the sea around the shipwreck. She might possibly have drowned," Philippa said.
"Even Pavetta who was a Source was not immune to drowning. Oh my daughter, my poor daughter," Yennefer said, fainting shortly after.
"Yen!" Geralt said, supporting her body. "It's all your fault, Emhyr! If anything happened to Ciri, you're the one who killed our daughter!"
"She's my daughter too!" Emhyr said. "Cirilla, what have I done to you..." His voice was choked with emotion, dread filled him now.
...
A week was spent with Emhyr. The wedding that was to happen was instead replaced with mourning. Ciri had made no response to any of the efforts to contact her.
