The Empress of Nilfgaard

The raging blizzard outside the monastery's walls howled with the fury of a thousand wailing orphans. So fiercely did the winds blow that the mere rattling of the monastery's windows was enough to send a chill down Meril's spine. The chill quickly evaporated however when he settled into the wooden tub and let the warm water wash over him. The aches and pains from his daily chores and training evaporated with the steam. He grabbed a bar of soap and began scrubbing himself down. The noxious smell of lye from the soap gave him a headache but the clean feeling the soap left behind was heavenly.

Just as he started to relax a force shook the doors of the bathing chamber, blasting them wide open. A tall burly muscular man with a mane of thick black hair and a bushy beard that stretched down to his chest barged in. The man pulled a hunting knife from his belt and tossed it straight at Meril's head.

Meril's reflexes triggered instantly. He slapped his two soapy hands together, stopping the blade only a mere inch from his face.

"Good catch m'boy," the burly man said.

"WHAT THE HELL OTTO?! I'M TRYING TO BATHE HERE!" Meril screamed.

"And now you're trying to survive," Otto said as he approached the tub.

"Survive? Survive what?" Meril demanded.

"The blizzard, of course, its perfect weather for survival training."

"You have to be kidding me! It's freezing outside!" Meril shouted in protest.

"Actually," Otto began as he knelt beside the tub then began lifting. "It's well below freezing. Your blood could turn to ice in this weather."

"Hey, hey, what are you doing? Otto!…woah…hang on let me get out first."

"No need, I got it," Otto said as he hoisted the fully loaded bathtub over his head with Meril still in it. Water spilled all over the bathing chamber as the tub shook. Tub overhead he began trudging to the nearby balcony.

"No, no, no, no! Come on Otto be reasonable," Meril cried.

"The world is not a reasonable place son, as your teacher it is my duty to teach you this."

"Kenmis is going to be pissed!"

"Kenmis isn't here to swaddle you now boy. And he probably won't be back till spring, by which point either you will be dead and I'll be long gone from here, or you will have survived and be much stronger than when he left you."

"Oh, come on can't we talk about this?" Meril pleaded.

"The only times when a witcher needs to talk is when he's negotiating his contract." He kicked the doors of the balcony wide open exposing the monastery's warm interior to the unforgiving winter wind.

"The rest of the time the Witcher need do only one thing, act!" With a heft, he tossed the tub over the balcony bathwater and all.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU FOR THIS OTTOOOOOO!" Meril screams echoed into the wind as his naked body fell into the sea of snow below.

"Master Witcher," came a distant distorted voice. "Master Witcherrr."

"Wah? What happened?" Meril yelped as his eyes fluttered open. He looked up to see the bald figure of the eunuch Happen standing over him with his usual judgemental look in his eyes.

"Sorry, I must have dozed off," Meril said as he yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"That's fine, a warm bath does tend to have that effect on people, I just came over to let you know your time is up unless you'd like to pay for another hour."

"No that's fine I think I'm clean enough now," Meril said as he lifted himself up from the water.

"What were you dreaming about?" the eunuch asked.

"Pardon?"

"You had a bit of a pained expression on your face, it was quite delightful, I'm curious to know what caused it," Happen said nonchalantly.

"I was dreaming…about a bath I once had," Meril answered hesitantly.

"It must have been quite a bath," the eunuch noted.

"That's one way to put it," Meril said with a nervous grin.

The eunuch merely nodded, "you'll find your armor and weapons safely stored in the changing room where you left them along with fresh towels. We had them washed, though we couldn't do anything about the tear in the jerkin."

"You didn't have to do that," Meril said.

"No, but the stench of raw sewage wafting off it was making nauseous."

"I'll pay you for it later," Meril said with a sigh.

"Consider it added to your tab for your next visit."

"Thanks, by the way, do you happen to know where the coronation is being held?" Meril asked.

"The Great Temple, but it's closed to the public I'm afraid. Invitation only."

"That's a shame I was hoping to go see it."

"I heard you had a run-in with the Princess earlier today," Happen said poignantly.

"What in the…? That was only a few hours ago how do you already know about that!?" Meril yelped in surprise.

"Word travels fast in this city, you need to keep your ears open if you wish to survive in it."

"I'll keep that in mind thanks," he said as he began to leave.

On his way out Happen quickly shouted, "there are a number of towers surrounding the temple that have a good view of the Temple's courtyard. Some of them have opened to the public for a fee, you should try those if you want to get a view of the festivities."

"I'll keep that in mind thanks."

The soft cotton towels felt warm and inviting on his skin. "Mmm, this alone is worth the thirty crowns I paid to get in here."

Once he was dry he fumbled through his neatly folded clothes for his ring, "I have to be more careful with this, I'd have been up to my neck in shit if this had gotten stolen while my clothes were being washed."

The ring in question was a simple golden band with a small ruby in the center and tiny runes etched along the sides. The runes were fashioned similarly to the runes forming a branching pattern on his left hand from his wrist to his fingertips. He slipped the ring onto the middle finger of his left hand then reached into his satchel placed neatly next to his clothes. With a quick green flash, he pulled out a change of woolen undergarments that he quickly changed into. He then proceeded to reequip the rest of his gear, starting with the gambeson, then the chainmail, and the leather jerkin on top. The tears where the water hag had ripped into him earlier were still clearly visible and some of the chain links underneath were loose. When he first got this armor set he thought that the three layers of protection were excessive but there was no doubt it saved his life today. He sighed, "getting this repaired is going to be a huge pain in the ass. Where am I gonna find an armorer who knows how to work with dracanid leather?"

He ran his uncovered hands along the messy tear that the monster had made. It saddened him to see his armor in such a state, he had to work very hard to hunt the forktail whose skin was used in the construction of this jacket. It took days of trekking through the mountains and examining monster droppings just to find the creature's nest. Killing it was an even bigger pain, he had spent nearly two dozen crossbow bolts before he finally managed to knock it out off the sky. And when he finally grounded it he had to spend at least another thirty minutes of slashing and sidestepping out of the path of its vicious jaws before it finally died. Dragging the beast's carcass back to the school for processing was another pain in and of itself.

He sighed again, "all that effort, and the drowner bitch tore right through it."

He finished putting on his gloves and his boots, strapped his steel sword to his back, and left the bathhouse. The sky was bleeding orange when he got outside, indicating that it was close to sunset. As he went up the still bustling streets he noticed a large stream of traffic was moving northward towards Temple Isle. "The island's probably crowded as all hell. Still, it might be worth my effort to head up there. Afterall, how often does a new monarch get crowned?"

He merged into the foot traffic heading north and made his way towards Temple Isle. When he got to St. Gregory's Bridge four halberd wielding soldiers in black armor guarded the pass. The guards shouted in a thick Nilfgaardian accent, "Zis passage is now closed to ze public for the duration of her Imperial Highness the Princess Cirrilla Fiona Ellen Riannon's coronation. From zis point forward only zose with official invitations may pass."

"That's horseshit!" a man in the crowd shouted. "What it's not enough some foreign wench is gonna crown herself our Queen in our sacred temple she's kicking us out too!"

"Why are you even interested in attending sir," one of the Nilfgaardian knights answered back. "It's plain to see you're not a fan of ze princess soon to be empress."

"Why do I wanna go? I want to go give that white-haired witch a piece of my mind. This is the free city of Novigrad! We recognize no kings here!"

"But you will recognize an Empress no?" the soldier quipped causing his compatriots to chuckle.

"Bah, you Nilfs think your so special, with your smelly cheeses and your high horse manner of speaking. But the truth is your not worth shit. Your empire is not worth shit! And your Empress can go stuff a rat up her cunny and die of plague!"

The soldier's stance shifted at that last remark. Meril could see the soldier's eyebrow's crossing sternly as he spoke. "Careful Nordling. You're well within your rights to be angry about losing ze war, but I'll not tolerate such crude insults to her Highness."

"Yep, this is gonna turn out well," Meril thought.

"Ahh, I'm sorry, did I insult your lady love sir knight?" the man said mockingly.

"Nordling, this is your last warning remove yourself before we do," the soldier responded growing angrier.

"I shouldn't get involved," Meril thought.

"Tell me," the rude man went on, "how does her cunt feel when you…ahh!"

"Shit!" Meril cursed as he drew his sword.

The soldier had just whacked the rude man in the side with the shaft end of his halberd and he was already preparing to hoist it overhead for a finisher. Just as the soldier was about to bring the weapon down Meril got in between them and knocked the halberd aside with the flat of his blade.

"WAIT!" he cried.

"Stand azide boy!" the soldier commanded.

"There's no need for bloodshed here, look this is supposed to be a joyous occasion. Can't we talk this out?" Meril pleaded.

"You're wasting your breath lad," the rude man said from behind him, "These savages don't want to hear words, they want to rob and pillage. They're nothing but a bunch of brutes and thieves with snooty accents."

Meril turned around and faced the rude man who was clutching his side from the earlier blow as he struggled to get on his feet. Meril raised his left hand up and waved his fingers, "you know what man? Why don't you just go home? There's nothing for you here"

The man stared at Meril with a dazed look on his face. "Yeah, home seems like a good idea."

And with that, the man turned around and left. "How did you do zat?" the soldier demanded.

"Magic," Meril answered simply.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe spells are still illegal in this city," the soldier said.

Meril turned around and made eye contact with the soldier. "You're gonna tell me that when your princess sailed in today using a gigantic portal?"

"Ze reason why ve had it built outside ze city walls vas specifically so zat it still complied with ze city's laws," came another thick Nilfgaardian voice.

The soldiers at the bridge straightened up and saluted whoever the voice was coming from. Meril turned around to see a tall man with brown hair tied into a ponytail. He wore a thick black frock coat with gold embroidery and a medallion of the sun of Nilfgaard hung from his neck. Accompanying him was a beautiful brunette haired women in a light pink and green flowing gown.

"General Voorhis sir," the soldier said keeping his salute up. "We were not expecting you."

"I had to pick up my guest, you know ze Baroness La Valette I'm sure," the General said as he introduced the lady.

"Of course, right this way sir." All four of the guards stood aside to let the General pass through but before he did he paused in front of Meril.

The General sized Meril up with his eyes and stared at him for a solid minute before saying anything. "You're zat boy whom ze princess fished out of ze river earlier today are you not?"

"Does everybody know about that already?" Meril said annoyed.

"I don't know about everybody, but I was on ze ship that she jumped from to save you. You sent ze Imperial Guard into a frenzy vith zat stunt."

"Sir!" the soldier interjected, "zis young man used magic to interrupt an act of justice."

"Randomly assaulting a civilian hardly qualifies as justice soldier," the General answered blankly.

As the soldier silenced himself in embarrassment Voorhis continued to examine Meril. "Hmm, judging by your eyes and that medal at your neck you're a vatghern a Witcher are you not?"

"That I am," Meril answered simply.

"Tell me, young man, why is it that Witchers constantly seem to be getting involved in matters that are none of their concern?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that General. I just know that in this case there was no need for anyone to die."

"People die regardless of whether there is a need for it or not," the General said simply.

"That may be so, but still, that doesn't mean we should just turn a blind eye when something senseless happens."

The General kept his face blank as if he were appraising the value of Meril's word in his mind.

"Now now Morvran," the Baroness at the General's side interjected. "There is no need to test the boy, he clearly meant well," she said as she wrapped herself around the General's arm.

"What's your name dear?" the lady asked.

"Meril, my lady."

"Are you heading towards the coronation as well?" she asked.

"I was trying to, but it doesn't look like I'll be able to get through here," Meril said motioning towards the guards.

"Let us bring him Morvran, you know Witchers have a way of making everything a bit more exciting."

"In zose rags?" Morvran asked pointing at the tears in Meril's jacket.

"I got these earlier today, haven't had the chance to get them repaired yet," Meril said.

"I'm curious what kind of beast could tear clean through dracanid leather and chainmail?"

"Lot's of beasts actually, but in this case, it was a water hag."

"A water hag hmm, tell me, would a rosy haired young witcher have made for a good supper for a water hag?"

"Are you kidding? Look at me I'm all skin and bones. I'm sure she would have much preferred a well-fed Nilfgaardian nobleman."

"Heh," the General chuckled as he turned to face the guards at the bridge. "This boy and the Baroness are my guests, let us pass."

"SIR!" all four guards said in unison as they lined up to let the General pass.

As they crossed St. Gregory's Bridge the Baroness chirped with all sorts of questions. "I'm curious to know, what in the devil ever possessed you to go diving in the river in the first place?" she asked.

"I'm curious as vell, I've not seen her Highness since the incident so I have not had ze time to discuss the matter with her as of yet."

"By discuss he means lecture and berate," the Baroness giggled.

"Well that's a bit of a long story," Meril answered, "the short of it is there was someone in the river I was trying to fish out before your boat pushed him under."

"And in ze process, you risked getting run over yourself, vat vere you thinking?"

"Honestly," Meril answered nervously, "I wasn't…thinking that is."

"I see, you're a man of action," the Baroness chirped, "no need to think about whether or not you should. You just see what needs to be done and you do it."

Meril smirked, "you know, it's funny."

"What is?" the Baroness asked.

"My teacher told me that the only time a witcher needs to talk is when he's negotiating his contract. The rest of the time he needs to act. I always thought he was full of horseshit."

"Mind your tongue boy, you're in the presence of nobility," the General chastised him sharply.

The Baroness however laughed. "You know something, you remind of another Witcher I met before," the Baroness said.

"Who?" Meril asked.

"Geralt of Rivia, do you know him?"

"I've…heard the name before," Meril answered nervously.

"Geralt not only saved my life but the life of my eldest son as well. I owe quite a bit to him. He didn't even ask for a reward after."

"Really? That's a bit of a surprise, Witchers never work for free."

"If you zink zat is surprising let me tell you this. His Majesty Emhyr var Emreis once tasked him with retrieving the Princess…"

"Ciri?" Meril interrupted.

"Ze very same, and when he found her the Emperor offered him five-thousand crowns as a reward."

"Five-thousand! That's enough to live on for a decade at least."

"Ah, but here is ze surprising part. Geralt of Rivia actually turned the reward down."

Meril's eyes threatened to pop out of his skull, "What!?"

"I know, it shocked me too when I heard. The Emperor was so impressed by ze Witcher's honorable nature zat he instead gifted him a stallion, a fine Nilfgaardian thoroughbred."

"Wow, now that, that is unbelievable. If it were me I'd have taken the coin. A horse is nice and all but with five-thousand crowns I'd be able to buy a whole stable."

"It just goes to show, not everyone is motivated by personal gain," the Baroness said with a small smile.

"Hang on a minute, you said he was tasked with retrieving Ciri? Retrieving her from where?"

"Wherever it was zat she was," Voorhis answered.

"I don't understand."

"Up until a few years ago, ze princess had been missing for nearly twenty years."

"Seriously? Where was she?" Meril asked.

"No one knows for sure, some say she worked as a sellsword, others that she was training to be a sorceress. Zere is one rumor in particular zat I believe is most likely to be true."

"Which is?"

"Zat she was training to be a Witcher," the General remarked.

"You can't be serious!?" Meril said incredulously.

"Your skepticism is vell founded, but I'm confident zat zis is true, or at least it is ze story zat is closest to true."

"How can you be so sure?" Meril asked.

"Ze way she fights."

"What do you mean?"

"I sparred with her once. Ze way she moves and ze way she handles a blade…if I had to describe it would be called…e'legan't et fe'roce."

"Sorry I don't speak Nilfgaardian."

"Hmm, I believe ze words I'm searching for would be, elegantly ferocious. Every step she takes is graceful yet menacing, every strike she lands powerful yet so precise. She handles a sword like an artist handles a paintbrush."

"Definitely, sounds like the way a Witcher fights. And come to think of it," Meril said pinching his chin in thought, "she did seem to know an inordinate amount of information about people in my line of work."

"Well wherever she's been what matters is that she's here now," the Baroness said, "I've had tea with her before you know. She is every bit as intelligent and cunning as her father, in fact, I suspect she may even surpass him in terms of political acumen. And yet so sweet and thoughtful. She even sent me flowers on my birthday. I'm telling you the gods are finally smiling on us again, they must be else they would not have sent us such a fine sovereign."

"Agreed, ve could not ask for a better Empress," the General said.

"You really believe that?" Meril asked.

"Vith all my heart," the General said firmly.

They entered the Temple of the Eternal Fire via a side entrance that was significantly less crowded than the main gate. They walked through a long stone hallway that was empty save for the guards that were posted at regular intervals along the corridor. Meril could hear the blaring of trumpets echoing through the hall.

"Ah, ze procession has begun, perfect timing, this means we won't have to suffer through the chamberlains and the Hierarch's speeches. You should consider yourself lucky vatgern, only the wealthiest and most powerful figures in Nilfgaard and the Northern Realms are being permitted to witness this event up close."

"How many guests are there?" Meril asked.

"Roughly two-hundred here in the temple, and five-hundred back in the Imperial Palace."

"The palace? You mean back in Nilfgaard? But I that doesn't make sense, I thought the coronation was being held here."

"It is, it's also being held in Nilfgaard as vell."

"That doesn't make sense."

"You'll understand when the ceremony starts."

The hallway opened up to a catwalk that gave Meril a good view of the courtyard below. Meril could see below him many people dressed in silk doublets and ornate dresses. Clearly people of wealth and nobility, he even spotted a few children among the audience. The audience sat on benches facing towards a pulpit where a man in long red robes was preaching in front of an enormous bowl holding what Meril assumed was the fabled Eternal Fire that supposedly kept the city protected.

The man at the pulpit was bald at the top with thin blonde hair growing at the sides of his head, and he had a stern almost stone-like face that grew steadily more annoyed as the trumpets played louder.

"That man at the pulpit looks familiar to me, who is he?" Meril asked.

"His Holiness Cyrus Engkelkind Hammelfart, Hierarch of Novigrad. You no doubt recognize him from one of the many portraits you'll find hanging in the city's various establishments."

"He's not bald in any of the pictures I've seen," Meril noted.

"His hair started falling fairly recently, from what I heard it started the day Nilfgaard took the city."

"Are we sitting down there?" Meril asked.

"Oh no, the ground is for the nobodies. Our place is there." The General pointed to a wooden box at the end of the catwalk that faced openly in the direction of the Hierarch's pulpit and the flame.

"I suggest you mind yourself carefully vatgern, you will be seated right next to some of ze most powerful and influential people in ze Empire. You could get killed or imprisoned just for glancing at one of zem ze wrong way."

"Anything you suggest I do?" Meril asked.

"Mind vat you say, in fact, don't say anything at all if you can help it."

"Noted."

As soon as they entered the box Meril's medallion rattled.

"Does this box have spells worked into it?" Meril asked.

"You noticed?" the General responded.

"My medallion's shaking."

"Useful little trinkets zose medals. Yes, spells have been worked into this box for the safety and comfort of the guests attending."

The boxes interior was lavishly well done. Instead of benches like below, there were two rows of ornately carved and well-cushioned chairs. Servants with drinks and appetizers on silver platters stood in the corners. There were ten chairs altogether, but only eight of them were filled. Meril had never seen a more eclectic collection of people. Sitting front and center with a goblet of wine in one hand and a wedge of cheese in the other was a bald middle-aged man in patchy clothes and a green caped hood. Sitting next to the middle-aged man was young brown haired women in a black and grey gambeson. The sigil of the eternal fire on her breast and the sword at her waist marked her as a Witch Hunter.

"I recognize her, that's Tamara Strenger Lady Commander of the Witch Hunters," Meril thought.

As he analyzed her, he noticed the disgusted side glance she gave to the bald man. "Really Bedlam?" she said, "must you make a pig of yourself, this is a solemn occasion."

"That's SIR Bedlam to you Witch Hunter," the bald man responded, "and our soon to be empress was gracious enough to furnish these tasties, it'd be an insult not to partake."

Meril heard women giggle in the back row. He turned his attention to the second row of chairs and noticed a group of gorgeous women sitting together in the back. He wasn't why, but something about these women made the hairs on the back of Meril's neck stand up. "Sorceresses," he thought.

To the far left of the back row was women with fiery red hair and freckles wearing a low cut green gown. Her cleavage seemed to be exceptionally pale, almost as if it was overcaked with powder. Sitting next to her was a brunette lady with a blindfold on. Next to her a petite woman with short black hair, her black dress gave the impression she was Nilfgaardian. Next to her was a blonde woman, also wearing a black and gold dress in the Nilfgaardian fashion. When his gaze turned to the next sorceress his heart nearly stopped. Her enchanting deep blue eyes immediately drew him in and her soft alluring elven features took his breath away. The elven sorceress gave him a cursory glance as he gawked at her before turning her attention back to the pulpit in the courtyard.

"By the gods, she's even more beautiful then Ciri."

"Ah, general, good to see you," came a man's voice, breaking Meril out of his stupor.

"Count Bernadotte," Morvran responded warmly as he greeted a middle-aged Nilfgaardian man with a curly black mustache.

"Viscount Bernadotte now I'm afraid, I had to abdicate rule of Bacca'la when I accepted my new position in ze court."

"Ah, but what is a city compared to ze honor of serving House Emreis," the General answered.

"Agreed, tis a small price to pay in service to ze Empire, ah but who is zis? Why ze lovely Lady LaVallete, a pleasure as always," the Viscount took Lady LaVallete's hand and planted a gentle kiss to greet her, before turning his attention to Meril.

"And who is this?" the Viscount.

Meril answered, "Meril of…"

"He is an associate of ze princess," the General cut him off.

"Is that so?" the Viscount noted, analyzing Meril with a critical eye before quickly turning away as if he had judged Meril to not be worth his time. "In any case, have all ze necessary preparations been made?" the Viscount asked.

"Indeed, ze spells should activate any minute now," the General said.

"Spells?" Meril thought.

"We'd best take our seats then, we wouldn't want to miss this."

Everyone took their seats as the playing of the trumpets grew louder and more sonorous. The Hierarch at his pulpit looked increasingly more annoyed, apparently, the trumpets were interrupting whatever his sermon was. Not that the audience on the ground seemed to care. From up top Meril could make out the bored expressions as they fidgeted on their pews.

"Where is Ciri? And why is there no royal procession or anything like that?" Suddenly Meril's medallion began to shake violently, accompanied by a sudden gust of wind.

"What's going on?" Meril asked.

"Watch," the General responded.

The wind blew more aggressively, causing the Eternal Fire to flare up and waiver in response. All the wind seemed to be collecting directly on the courtyard. Suddenly, a green portal on the left and right sides of the courtyard opened. From the left portal, a squire dressed in black livery carrying a golden sun shaped crown on a pillow of black velvet strode forth slowly and deliberately. From the right side, another squire in matching livery stepped forward carrying a golden scepter with the sun of Nilfgaard at its head. They both marched toward the Hierarch at the same slow steady pace, keeping in perfect rhythm with the trumpets.

One final gust of wind blew and a wave of green energy swept over the courtyard and pooled directly between the Hierarch and the Eternal Fire. A gigantic portal opened that spanned the entire length of the courtyard. But something was different, as soon as the magical pathway finished expanding the swirling pool of energy gave way to a view of a long black throne room with a red carpet laid directly in front of the Hierarch. Both sides of the throne room were lined top to bottom with Nilfgaardian courtiers in their finest silk gowns and doublets, and at the very end of the hall, where she was.

She sat regal and proud, on a throne that was three times her size, the smiling golden sun of Nilfgaard standing proudly at the top of the thrones backing. She was calm and composed, wearing a long gown of black and red silks that was embroidered with black and white pearls and a long black cape rested on her shoulders under

The Hierarch paused in front of the portal, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The two squires stopped in front of the Hierarch, raising the crown and scepter respectively. Meril caught a glint of metal from under the velvet pillows. He focused his eyes on where the squires were standing and vaguely made out the outlines of daggers nestled in the squires palms before they lowered the pillows.

"Why are those squires carrying daggers?" Meril asked.

"You noticed zat did you? You witchers do have sharp senses," the General said.

"You didn't answer my question," Meril said firmly.

"A little extra incentive, to make sure ze Hierarch behaves himself."

"It's a shame they aren't already in his back," one of the sorceresses in the back said. Lady Strenger whipped around to see who it was but no one betrayed the culprit.

Nervously, the Hierarch stepped through into the throne room. His foot passed through effortlessly without even so much as a ripple on the surface of the portal.

"This has to be the single most well-crafted portal I have ever seen. He passed through it like he was just stepping into another hallway."

The Hierarch walked up the red carpet slowly and deliberately. Every step he took told you that he didn't want to be there, and still he kept walking forward. Finally, when he approached the throne she looked down on him with a steely gaze before bidding him forward with just two fingers. Finally, he turned to his left and lifted the crown from its resting place on the velvet pillow and raised it high for all to see. A magically magnified voice rang out from the portal, "this coronet represents the…virtue and absolute authority of the ruler who bears it."

Gingerly he placed the golden crown on her pearl braided ashen hair. He turned to his right and raised up the scepter, "this scepter represents the supreme unyielding might of the sun. May it shine forever on the lands of its sovereign."

He held the scepter out to her with open hands and she daintily accepted. He stood aside and she rose from the sun throne raising the scepter on high.

"ALL HAIL CIRILLA FIONA ELLEN RIANNON! EMPRESS OF NILFGAARD!"

_A/N: Hey, sorry it took me so long to get this finished. I'd like to blame school or work or something, but the truth is this chapter was just really challenging to write and I can be really lazy sometimes. That ends here though. From this point on till the end of summer, I'm gonna aim to update on weekly basis. Please do comment, hearing what you guys have to say about my work is what really drives me to keep doing it.