"Go on." Rayden replied, eager for the answer to his sleepless nights.

"In short, the Redanian Governor."

"Even I know that's a bold accusation, Yen." He said with a sigh. "What reason do have to believe he is behind it?"

"A message was delivered from a watch captain in Tretogor. He said a group of Nilfgaardian soldiers came into the city with some young girls. Girls that were purported to be missing. Remember I told you I came back because of the reports of girls going missing? It seems your orders to the garrisons have slowed the abductions, but they haven't stopped, and some noble bastard is seemingly behind this. When the Captain questioned the soldiers, he was told they only answer to the Governor.

It seems this Captain knows you because the letter was specifically addressed to 'Emperor Rayden'."

"Yeah, I know him." Rayden thought about the mild-mannered Captain of Tretogor's watch. For four years he and Eskel had taken bounties from him. He was fair minded but stern and always paid generously for their work. The last time he saw the man, he had stood up to the Nilfgaard bullies who came to plunder. "Alright, I'll make a stop in Redania."

"There is a bit of a complication." Yen said. "The Governor of Redania is Davor Voorhis. He is related to you through your mother."

"What?" Rayden asked shortly.

"Your mother belonged to house Voorhis, cousins to Emhyr. Your mother was a Farrow by name, but her mother was born a Voorhis. It would seem that defying the family runs in your genes. Your grandmother also ran away to marry a man of her own choosing. A rather wealthy merchant. When your mother was ten years old, her father died mysteriously and the two were brought back into the Voorhis clan. Davor is some sort of cousin to you, although a few times removed. Tread carefully."

"I don't care who he is. If he is behind the abduction of young women, I'll have his head. Tell no one about this. We will head out tomorrow morning."

"If you dock in Redania, he'll know you're coming."

"I won't be docking in Redania." Rayden said with a smile.

Rayden stood on the gangplank of his ship as the dock workers tied her up. He smiled brightly as he inhaled the heavy sea air. Novigrad was certainly a city of sounds. Over head the gulls called to one another, longshoremen cursed as they loaded and unloaded the many ships in port. Hawkers off the boards called out to the sailors whose sole destination was the brothel. He walked down the bouncy plank and headed off into the nearest street teeming with people.

Rayden had instructed everyone, including Patrick, to remain aboard. It hadn't set well with the guard, but given the lack of love for Nilfgaard, he didn't protest. While he had not been born there, he had lived there long enough to develop the accent that was so hated in the north. Rayden had even instructed that all the banners were to be pulled from the ship once they left Kovir's coast. The young Emperor certainly had a plan, but it made Patrick nervous.

Mothers ushered children to and fro, while older boys ran errands for their masters. Women from some of the less desirable brothels were out, handpicking their customers from the fresh influx of men. Back and forth people passed by him, with no clue how close to the most powerful man in the world they were.

"Hello there," A sultry blonde slid her hand on Rayden's shoulder. He smiled and simply removed it carefully.

"No, thank you." He said.

"Too bad. You're cute." She said then cast her smile on the next man that came within reach. A flurry of excitement came from across the street as a boy of about eight burst from the crowd, a large man in a bloody apron on his heels.

"Come back here you thievin' wretch!" Rayden smiled. An opportunity had just presented itself. He stepped into the boy's path and caught him by the arm.

"Hey! Wha' cha' doin'? Let me go!" The boy squirmed and tried to kick out, but Rayden held tight as he looked at the young thief's prize. A bundle of cured sausage stuck out of his jacket.

"Thank you, master. This little thief has gotten away far too many times!" The man in the apron, obviously a butcher, said as he approached. "It's off to the guard with you this time!" He made a grab for the boy, but Rayden pulled him out of reach.

"Well, now, hold on. A growing boy needs to eat, after all." The butcher's face grew dark until Rayden held out some shiny gold coins. "Will this cover your loss?" He knew good and well it would have covered the man's losses a few times over.

"Yeah…" He took the coins and turned back, lumbering into the crowd as he grumbled. The boy began to squirm again.

"Hold on,kid. It seems you owe me for getting you out of trouble."

"I don't owe you nothin'."

"That's not exactly how I see it. That gold would have bought ten times what you're carrying." The boys stopped fighting and settled down, but Rayden didn't let go.

"What you want?" The boy asked, eyeing him cautiously.

"I want you to find somebody for me."

"Who?"

"The Rat King."

"I don't…"

"Yeah, you do. Tell him the Witcherboy is back in town. I'll be at the docks." Rayden pressed a coin into the boy's hand, released him and the kid scampered off. Odds were good the Rat King already knew he was in town, but now he would know to come looking for him. He turned and whistled as he headed back to the ship.

The passengers and crew of the ship spent the next couple of hours checking stores and preparing for a journey to the capital. Rayden had instructed Eislyn to dress for rough travel and to carry her bow and dagger, so she had appeared on deck in leather pants and top and traveling cloak. He couldn't help but smile at how fantastic she looked. And how well she filled out the soft leather. They had left Kovir in such a rush that all his amorous leanings had been near banished until now. Too bad it would have to wait.

"That's quite the gamble." Patrick said after Rayden explained his plan. "Are you sure he's going to show up?" Rayden smiled as he looked out at a couple of familiar figures pushing through the crowd.

"Oh, he'll come. In fact, here he is now." He headed off the ship and waited on the dock. The Rat King had indeed come, and he was just as Rayden remembered. The two men stood staring at one another, each sizing up the other yet each remained, seemingly, relaxed.

"So, witcherboy. You're back. And on a Nilfgaardian ship no less." The Rat King said, amusement in his voice. Rayden flipped his cloak back over his shoulders exposing the emblem on his chest that marked him as the Emperor. The Rat King gave a dark chuckle. "Well, well, well…that's quite the jump from serving a mutant to becoming the leader of the most hated empire the world has ever known." Rayden didn't reply but made a gesture in the air and two cabin boys came running down the gangplank carrying a chest between them. They set the chest at their master's feet and opened it revealing the mounds of gold and loose gems stones.

"What's this? A bribe?"

"No. Consider it payment for services rendered."

"What services?" The criminal lord narrowed his eyes.

"Passage through the city for myself and six others, loan of horses, then passage back through to my ship. I believe there is enough there to cover that as well as protection for the Rosemary and Thyme for the next five years."

"You could dock at Oxenfurt. I'm sure they would roll out the red carpet for you."

"I'm sure they would, but I don't really want my presence known for the time being. There's a mess that needs cleaning up. So, do we have a deal?" Rayden stood confidently, waiting. The Rat King considered what he was asking.

"No conditions for allowing the Nilfs in the gate? Seems like you aren't taking full advantage of your bargaining power."

"That's business for another time. So, deal?" Rayden repeated. The Rat King considered for a moment.

"Alright, witcherboy, you have a deal." The Rat King extended his hand and Rayden accepted. The guard beside him closed and picked up the chest as Rayden was handed a small red leather pouch. "Have each of your party carry one of those. You remember." He handed over a single large coin with a crowned rat imprinted on each side. "Give this to the bard when you see him." Giving a casual mock salute, the Rat King turned and disappeared into the crowds. Rayden returned to the ship and handed out the coins.

"I can't believe that worked." Patrick said, astonished.

"Have a little faith, my friend. Being a witcher's apprentice also gave me a good look at the underbelly of society. When we leave this ship, we'll be in my element. Keep this coin on you at all times in the city. Don't loose it once we leave or you won't be getting back in. Don't wear any court identifiers but pack them for when we arrive. I don't want Davor to know we are here until we march through his front door. Pack your gear, we leave in an hour."

Having already packed his gear, Rayden paid a visit to the Rosemary and Thyme. As he entered, he caught the final notes of Delilah's song. Her voice really was that of an angel. The crowd was silent for a moment then erupted in praise.

"Well, well. Look who came to visit." She said, approaching Rayden at the door. "My father hasn't returned from Kovir. From your wedding. So, why are you here?"

"Not one for small talk, are you?" Delilah glared at him. "I have business in Redania. Here. Your protection has been paid for at least the next five years. Just wanted to give you that." Rayden handed over the large coin. He expected some sort of polite response but she continued to frown at him.

"Paid for by whom?"

"Paid for by me." He responded in agitation and lifted his cloak. Delilah's eyes widened at the glint of the gold pinned to his chest.

"We don't need your charity."

"You're impossible. I needed to make a deal with the Rat King and it would have looked suspicious if I didn't ask for something selfish. Just give that to Dandelion and Zoltan when they return." Rayden made to leave but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Thank you." Delilah said simply. He nodded then left.

Rayden returned to the ship and grabbed his gear then the group walked through the city to the stables where seven good horses waited and rode out of the city. A few hours in, Rayden spoke to Patrick who rode beside him.

"Speak, man."

"What?"

"You've been itching to say something since before we left. So, say it." Rayden told him. Patrick gave a sigh.

"It's too late now, but are you sure Eislyn should have come? The roads are dangerous."

"Yes, for a number of reasons. I wasn't going to leave her without protection in Novigrad. I guess she could have stayed at the Rosemary and Thyme but, if what I think is going on in Tretogor is actually going on, we are going to need a gentlewoman on our side. She's not a simpering miss, Patrick. She's decent with that bow. Who do you think has been putting meat on her family table?"

"Didn't realize her circumstances were quite so dire."

"Started getting bad when she was about twelve or thirteen. The Krols always had a bountiful garden but having meat on the table became a rarity. She had learned archery as a girl because it was 'a lady's sport'. When she was fourteen, I taught her how to hunt and field dress. At first her parents objected but when she brought down a large deer, they changed their tune. They would send a servant out with her to carry back her kill. Didn't know about me. I think they thought she just figured it out herself. Servants knew though."

"Weren't worried about them telling?"

"Never. They understood the need for survival and respected Eislyn because she was willing to work. And they hated Lady Krol."

The group traveled straight across Redania for three days without incident. Rayden knew the area well and chose a straight path, traveling as the crow flies, to save time. That afternoon, they had been on a well-worn road for several hours when they came upon a woman off to the side. She was beautiful but dressed poorly and cried and begged at them. As they rode close, she stood, hunched over, her hands reaching out to them in desperate supplication. Rayden sneered and pulled his sword, pointing it at her.

"Rayden!" Eislyn hissed behind him. He ignored her and dismounted.

"Please, sir!" She cried. "Please help me! I need to feed my children! Just a few coins is all I ask."

"A few coins, huh? That's a new one." The wretched woman took a step closer. "Get back."

"Please! I ask your help and you threaten me with steel!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer my silver?" He hefted his sword then reached for the dagger at his thigh. The woman straightened up and hissed, her image changing before their eyes, her ragged clothes falling off revealing a thin white body, small breasts, and stringy black hair. She took a swipe at Rayden with long dirty claws. He dodged and struck back with the silver blade but missed and the creature vanished into the woods. Rayden sheathed his weapons and stood at the roadside, hand resting over the hidden wolf head amulet until the vibration subsided.

"She's gone." He said and remounted.

"Wha-what was that?" Eislyn stammered.

"Bruxae. Type of vampire. Nasty little bitches. They'll use various tricks to lure their prey away and kill them. Bad way to go."

"How did…" she started to ask.

"How did I know? Experience. And a Witcher's amulet. It's enchanted to detect magic and monsters. It has a few extras my mother put on it because I'm human and not actually a witcher. We need to get moving. It's getting dark and she'll be back with a few of her sisters. I'd rather not have to fight a bunch of bruxae in the dark while worrying about you lot. While we are out here, you have to trust my judgement. I know what is human and what is not." That night they took refuge in a barn. Patrick offered a generous amount of gold to the farmer for the privilege at Rayden's behest. He put Eislyn and Tomas at the rear, farthest from the door. The guards took turns keeping watch. A little after midnight, Rayden staggered out and sat beside Patrick in the dark.

"Not your turn, yet." Patrick said quietly, not turning his head.

"Couldn't sleep." Rayden replied.

"Nightmare?"

"How'd you guess?"

"No guessing. You mutter in your sleep. Kept telling someone it would be alright. Who was it?"

"Can't remember." Rayden said sadly as he stared up at the stars until they disappeared in the dawn. The dream was becoming more violent but when he woke, he could not remember any details. All he was left with were vague sensations of grieving women and the smell of blood. It gave him a sense of foreboding he could not shake.

The following evening, they made camp in the open. Esilyn had suggested a small copse of trees but Rayden nixed that idea without giving her any reason. She was beginning to wonder at the man she had married. The loving solicitation was gone, replaced by a detached coldness. But deep down she knew better. After the incident with the bruxae, he was on full alert to the dangers of the road. Was this why people thought Witchers were feelingless monsters? A seeming detachment brought about by intense focus on their job?

The reason Rayden had stayed distant and refused the shelter of the trees was the beasts that were now tracking them. The vampire had found his scent and was following him. Most likely there was more than one. He was counting on at least three. They tended to like odd numbers. He had deliberately slowed their trek, not wanting to be near a populated area when they struck, and he wanted to be able to see them coming.

One guard stood at watch while the others sat around the fire. Rayden dropped to his knees within the light range and opened a heavy leather bag exposing five palm sized bombs. With the butt of his sword, he cracked one open then added a vial of greenish oil, mixing until it was a paste. He then poured some of the oil on his fingers and ran them down each side of his long blade as well as his silver dagger.

"Rayden. What is going on?" Patrick asked calmly. Rayden didn't answer directly but stood up, sheathing his sword. He removed the long cloak and Eislyn thought this must be what he looked like out on the road with Eskel.

"I want Tomas in close to the fire. Eislyn and Mercel also. Both of you ready your bows." He held out a half of the split bomb to each of them. "Dip your arrows in this and make sure you hit what you're aiming at. Oh, and keep it away from the fire. It's quite explosive." He handed out vials of green oil to the others, issuing instructions that they followed immediately.

"Rayden?" Eislyn asked after she had readied her weapon and tested the string.

"The bruxae followed us. They aren't far. Those bombs are called Moon Dust. There are silver shavings in there." He pulled out another bottle, larger than the others and splashed its contents liberally over himself. His companions grimaced at the harsh smell.

"What is that?"

"Fiend piss. It'll hide my scent so I can track the vampires."

"Ug," Eislyn said, screwing up her face. Rayden laughed and winked at her.

"Wanna give me a kiss?"

"Gods, no. Not until you've had a bath."

"Right. Now, there are at least three, but be prepared for more." He turned and disappeared into the darkness. They stood at attention for fifteen minutes before an eerie scream echoed back to them. From the side, something moved in fast and Mercel raised his bow and fired. A similar scream sounded as he dipped another arrow and fired. Eislyn waited until the creature came closer into the ring of light and fired, striking the vampire in the shoulder. A familiar blade came from behind and slit the creature's throat, black blood splashing into the fire. Rayden grabbed one of the bombs lit it and threw it back out fllowed quickly by a second. The explosion wasn't very loud, but a cloud of dust glittered in the sparse moon light. He turned and disappeared again into the darkness. No other bruxae approached the fire but they remained vigilant none the less.

Rayden stalked his prey through the dust. This coven must have been desperate. The two weaker ones had moved in quickly. Their mistake. Only one remained and she was smart. She stayed far out of range of his long sword and the dust that floated around him. He crawled into a low spot to wait, mud and stagnant water soaking into his armor. This brings back memories, he thought. He listened to the night sounds, his wolf head medallion vibrating lightly. He had another advantage on this night. One he was still getting used to. The amulet at his wrist was warm against his skin, and when he closed his eyes, he could see her watching from a distance. She knew where he was and waited to strike. Rayden just had to outwait her. He sat in the cold filth for hours as the bruxae began to lose patience. Rayden smiled silently pulling out the sliver dagger. She crept over the stone he hunched behind baring her fangs only to find a silver blade rammed into her mouth. With both hands, he pulled down on the handle, ripping through the vampire's jaw and throat. Just to complete the job, he stabbed her through the heart and twisted the blade. Rayden sat back in the mud examining his handiwork and feeling very satisfied.

In the very early dawn, he approached the campsite, dragging the two other corpses with him. Dropping them a small distance away he grabbed the third.

"You might not want to watch this part," he said to Eislyn then proceeded to dismember the three, mixing their body parts into different piles and set them on fire. The head of the leader he bagged and tied to his horse. No doubt there was a bounty, and in witcher fashion he would produce his trophy. When his grotesque task was complete, he found a stream and washed as best he could before returning. Eislyn was sitting with her back to the fires, her face buried in her arms. He knelt down and lifted her chin.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked. She nodded, noting that the tenderness had once again returned to his voice.

"The Path was rough, wasn't it? I mean, we just ran into this, but you went looking for it."

"It was. But better that I do this than someone who hasn't trained for it." He pulled her to her feet and embraced her, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. She was shaken seeing firsthand the horrors of the world outside Kovir. Having a resident Witcher and a large population of mages made Kovir a relatively safe place. "Let's get moving. We should be able to make the city in a few hours."

The fires were doused, and the tired group soldiered on with the grit of sleeplessness in their eyes. Relief came as the sun was high in the clear sky and the walls of Tretogor came into view. Rayden bypassed the main gate for the soldier's gate on the east wall. The yard was mostly empty, as the guards would be out on patrol during peak hours. Rayden dismounted, grabbed his gore bag and called into the open door of the captain's office. The middle-aged man appeared and smiled at his visitor.

"Well, look what the monsters drug in." The two shook hands in greeting and Rayden opened the bag for the captain to see its contents.

"Buxae actually. Thought there might be a contract."

"There's a good bounty out, too. Given that it's you, I'm going to assume you got all three of them." Rayden nodded in confirmation as the captain took the bag and threw it on the outdoor fire before fetching a large pouch of gold. Rayden accepted then tossed it to Tomas.

"Good. I'm running short on cash."

"You're the Emperor. You don't need cash."

"I'm keeping low at the moment. No one else needs to know I'm here. Yet."

"You got my message then."

"I did."

"How can I help?" The captain offered, his voice low and serious.

"We could use a meal, hot bath and some sleep. Didn't get any last night thanks to that lovely lady on the fire." The captain whistled harshly and three lads came running.

"Take these horses and open the north guard house. Have plenty of food brought over as well." He turned back to Rayden. "You know where the bath house is. Welcome to Tretogor, Your Eminence."

Morning came too early but Rayden was up and dressed in the finery he had packed. Eislyn draped his fine cape over one shoulder and brushed lint of the fabric. She had also dressed in her best dress and pinned up her hair. She looked every inch the lady she had been born, and that would be in their favor. Patrick and his men were also ready, each wearing the pauldrons that marked them as the personal guard to the Emperor.

"My Lady," Patrick addressed Eislyn as the couple emerged from the barracks. He and Mercel, the primary archer, stepped forward. "As the Emperor's wife, it is appropriate that you have your own guard. Mercel will be fulfilling this duty for you. He will be at your command." Mercel bowed to her.

"It will be a pleasure to serve you, My Lady."

"Thank you." She said and he straightened, then took his place by her side. Rayden led the way out into the city proper, Patrick at his side, Eislyn and Mercel behind with the remaining two guards flanking them. He kept a brisk pace, parting the already forming crowds. Children stood gawking at the impressive troop and mothers held back their offspring, not knowing how to interpret the strangers.

"Mercel, huh?" Rayden said as they walked along.

"Being noble born, he was the logical choice. And his insane devotion to his wife will assure he won't try to seduce yours." Patrick added the last with a smile. Rayden laughed.

"Always thinking, aren't you." The pair dropped their camaraderie as they went up the steps to the palace of the governor. Two guards crossed their poleaxes on their approach. Rayden flipped back his cape exposing the imperial emblem, but the recognition was too late. The flank guards already had them on their knees. Rayden hefted the double doors open and marched forward as guards and servants scuttled at their abrupt entry. An old woman with a ring full of keys stopped and knelt low before him.

"Where is Davor?" Rayden boomed, using his imperial voice to fill the room. The woman at his feet answered him.

"He has not yet come downstairs, Your Eminence." Rayden gestured for her to rise.

"What is going on here?" He demanded. The woman shook her grey head as tears formed in her eyes.

"Upstairs. The room at the end of the hall will give you all you need to know." She bowed and stepped away. Eislyn moved toward the old woman, speaking softly as Rayden and Patrick took the stairs two at a time. Reaching the double doors at the end of the hall, Rayden gestured to the guards there to move aside. They seemed to do so gladly. Reaching for the handle, he found the door locked. Damn it. Rayden lost his temper and kicked the doors open. The wood cracked as the lock gave way and the doors banged loudly against the walls behind. The old woman was correct. Directly in front of him was Davor, and all he needed to know.

In a large canopy bed, knelt a young woman, the sheet pulled up over her chest as the aging Davor kissed her neck. On the edge of the bed sat a much younger girl, a child, sobbing. They couldn't have been more than seventeen and thirteen, respectively. Rayden felt his heart hit his stomach at the sight.

"What the fuck!? Who the fuck are you?" Davor raged, clearly angry over the interruption of his perverted activities. Rayden didn't answer but jumped on the bed and pulled Davor out by his hair and threw him on the floor and pulled out his dagger.

"Get up you pig, before I gut you where you lay." He watched Davor struggle to his feet, his eyes pinned on the Imperial Emblem.

"Y-you." He sneered.

"Yeah, me. You disgust me. Put some pants on." Rayden threw a pair of pants at him then picked up a shirt and ripped it into strips and bound the degenerate governor. "Get him the fuck out of my sight." Rayden took a deep calming breath and picked up the dresses off the floor, laying them gently on the bed before turning his back.

"Please, dress yourselves," he addressed the girls. He could hear the older one talking quietly to the child and the rustle of fabric. When they were done, the oldest girl spoke.

"We are dressed." She said simply, her voice strong. Rayden turned back to her, his face full of anger and sadness he could not hide.

"What happened here? Why did he have a child in his bed? What are your names?" The older girl watched him carefully before answering.

"I am Aleksandra and this is Pola. The governor has certain…appetites…This was to be Pola's first time. I asked to join. To 'show her the ropes'. I was hoping he would tire himself with me and leave Pola be. I have been here for some time. It is nothing new to me." Aleksandra's gaze never wavered as she said this. Rayden felt like he was going to vomit. He swallowed hard and knelt in front of Pola.

"Pola…My name is Rayden. I am the Emperor of Nilfgaard. You are safe now. I promise." Pola cried harder but managed to nod her head. Rayden rose and returned downstairs. He scowled at Davor as Patrick held him on his knees. Eislyn called to him from the side of the open chamber.

"Rayden. You need to see this." He followed her into the kitchen then down a set of stone stairs. It was a back entrance to the dungeons so the prisoners could be easily fed. At the bottom of the steps was a large square chamber lined with sixteen cells and a round pillar in the center. It was brightly lit and surprisingly clean for a dungeon. The smell of fresh straw was strong in his nostrils. Many pairs of eyes watched him as he turned a slow circle. Each cell contained at least two young women or girls ranged in age from ten to eighteen he would guess. Their soft cries and whimpers permeated his head, making him dizzy. My dream…He staggered to the center pillar and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cold stone. Bile rose in his throat, but he refused to give in to sickness.

"Release them…" he rasped. He heard the jingle of keys and the scrape of metal. Eislyn touched his shoulder, keeping her voice low.

"The housekeeper has kept a journal of all the girls…names, dates, where they came from." She held out a tattered book. "We can use this to return them to their families. The ones that are still alive anyway." He watched as she thumbed through the book. So many names…How long had this been going on? Rayden felt a surge of anger, bloodlust, like he had never felt before. He let out a yell of pure rage and stormed from the prison. Flying back up the steps into the audience chamber, he grabbed Davor by his hair and hauled him to his feet and half drug him out the door. Patrick followed close behind as Rayden drug the half-naked man through the streets. People were out in force now, so many got to see their new overlord dragging their governor through the city. Whispers of The Emperor circulated wildly, and some ran in fear.

Rayden made it to the city square and found exactly what he was looking for. An execution platform. He pulled Davor up the wood steps as he screamed in protest and fear, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The hot outrage that pulsed within Rayden's chest blocked out any bit of sympathy or compassion. He shoved Davor to the stained block and held him in place with a boot on his back. A crowd had assembled, watching. Rayden looked up at the faces that he ruled and spoke in his strong, imperial voice.

"Davor Voorhis. For your crimes against the people of Redania, for your perversions on the girls you are supposed to protect, I sentence you to death." Rayden pulled out his sword, the scrape of the steel on the scabbard echoing off the buildings.

"No, no, no! You can't do this! NOOO!"

"I am the Emperor. I do what I want." Rayden stepped back and Patrick resumed holding the prisoner in place. He raised his blade and brought it down hard, the witcher grade steel severing Davor's head from his body. Gasps could be heard from the people below and even more gathered around. Rayden stood straight, red blood spattered across his white shirt, holding his bloodied sword and addressed the people. His people.

"I am Rayden Merigold, Emperor of Nilfgaard. I am the son of a Witcher. I was raised to protect humanity. I pledge to protect the peoples of Redania and every territory from the predation of power and greed. No more with the Nilfgaardian elite use you for their own gain and amusement or they will meet the same fate as Davor Voorhis."

When Rayden reentered the audience hall, he was greeted with gasps. Looking down he realized he was splashed thoroughly with blood. Eislyn, who had changed into more serviceable work clothes, led him to the study. He followed without a word; a general daze having taken over. The adrenaline rush of his anger had passed and left him feeling empty.

Looking up he found himself in a book lined room. Tomas sat at the desk, pouring over the account books. Rayden fell back into the chair his bride led him to. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, not wanting to let go of her.

"Oh, my. You don't look so good, Your Eminence." Tomas said.

"I just publicly executed a man. How should I look?" Rayden said. Tomas blanched.

"I see. Well, he certainly left a mess. He has been taxing the people at a high rate with little to show for it. But I'm certain if you look around this palace, you'll find it. His personal indulgences were…generous."

"Can you fix it?"

"Welllll…yes. In time. What we need is a good manager. Davor Voorhis was clearly not."

"Alright. We'll hunker down here for a bit. You get that crap straightened out. I'll sign whatever needs it and find a new governor." He tugged on Eislyn's pants. "What's this?"

"Work clothes. I can't work in that blasted dress. These girls need tending, feeding and soothing. Speaking of which, I need to get back. I've been going through Marge's book and figuring out the best way to get these girls home. The ones that have homes that is." He gave her hand a squeeze and released her.

"Rayden, the guard has been gathered." Patrick said.

"Yeah, yeah…" Rayden pushed up from his seat and went back out into the large hall. The guard stood at attention in two perfect rows. Rayden walked down the line and looked each man in the face. Some were stock still. Other eyes flowed over the girls being tended. A young soldier at the end was trying desperately not to break down. Rayden stopped in front of him.

"What is your problem, guard?"

"Forgive me…" tears escaped the corners of his eyes. "My sister, Pola…" Rayden softened remembering the young girl almost served up to that pervert.

"She's lucky." Rayden stepped aside and gestured for the young man go. He rushed to his sister's side and embraced her as she bawled into his neck. Turning back to the rest of the guard he asked them a very simple question.

"Are you prepared to serve me?" Every man slapped his hand over his chest in affirmation. Pola's brother approached and knelt.

"I will serve you gladly, Your Eminence. Pola told me you saved her. I will do whatever is required of me."

"Good. Then you will serve under Mercel while we remain. This place is woefully understaffed and I'm sure your assistance would be greatly appreciated." Mercel claimed five others for service indoors while Elion, one of the flank guards, took the rest to review the exterior security.

"Thank you, Your Eminence." Marge, the housekeeper said.

"Have a chamber prepared for me and my wife. And have that damn bed broken apart and burned."

"As you will, Your Eminence." She said, bowing her head, and smiling.