Many Northern kings appear in this story: rash and thoughtful, amorous and frigid, brave and cowardly. The reader should easily see that should their crowns be removed and a pitchfork, sword, a bunch of bills, or a goat's apple given in a scepter's stead, they would be as human as we are. The same, however, could not be said of the Emperor of Nilfgaard, the White Flame Dancing on the Barrows of His Enemies, whose shadow fell over all the events I written down. In this case, that shadow was represented by Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen, a consummate diplomat who started more than one war, only to end it accepting homage from the defeated.

It was difficult to guess the role of this black-clad Imperial emissary, yet even such an unskilled politician like Geralt could easily assume that nothing Fitz-Oesterlen did was done out of fancy or by chance. He also had reasons for giving a helping hand to the witcher and Marie Louise, yet these reasons were revealed only much, much later...