It was very quiet. The stomach of one of the courtiers could be heard rumbling.

“My late lamented father is dead,” said Viraxas. “He has joined his revered forebears. Both of my younger brothers, unsurprisingly, have been accused of treason. The trial will be conducted in keeping with the dead king’s will, both brothers will turn out to be guilty and will leave Kerack forever on the strength of the court’s verdict. Aboard the frigate Acherontia, hired by me… and my powerful friends and patrons. The dead king, I happen to know, didn’t leave a valid will and testament or any official directives regarding the succession. I would have respected the king’s will had there been any such directives. But there are none. By right of inheritance, the crown thus belongs to me. Does anyone of the people gathered here wish to oppose that?”

No one among the people gathered there did. Everybody present was sufficiently endowed with good sense and the instinct of self-preservation.

“So please begin the preparations for the coronation. May the people within whose jurisdiction it falls busy themselves with it. The coronation will be combined with my nuptials. For I have decided to revive the ancient custom of the kings of Kerack, a law enacted centuries ago. Which declares that if the groom dies before his wedding, the fiancée will wed his closest unmarried relative.”

Ildiko Breckl—as was clear from her radiant expression—was prepared to submit to the ancient custom that very minute. Others of those present remained quiet, undoubtedly trying to recall who had enacted the law, when and on what occasion. And how that custom could have been enacted centuries ago, since the kingdom of Kerack had existed for less than a hundred years. But the brows of the courtiers wrinkled with mental effort then quickly became smooth. Unanimously, they came to the correct conclusion. That although the coronation hadn’t taken place yet, and although he was only His Highness, Viraxas was already essentially king, and the king is always right.

“Get out of here, Witcher,” whispered Ferrant de Lettenhove, pushing Geralt’s sword into his hand. “Take Julian away. Vanish, both of you. You haven’t seen anything, haven’t heard anything. Let no one link you with all this.”

“I realise—” Viraxas swept his gaze over the assembled company “—and understand that for some of you gathered here the situation may seem astonishing. That for some of you the changes are occurring too unexpectedly and without warning, and events are moving too fast. Nor can I rule out that for some of the assembled company things are not happening as they intended and the state of affairs is not to their liking. Colonel de Santis immediately threw in his lot on the right side and swore loyalty to me. I expect the same from everybody gathered here.