“Ciri.” “I will, I will, I will! Afraid, are you?” “Dreadfully. You know, Ciri, you can die from having your head cut off.” “Are you mocking me?” “I wouldn’t dream of it.” “She’ll put you in your place, you’ll see. No one takes liberties with my grandmamma. When she stamps her foot the greatest knights and warriors kneel before her; I’ve seen it myself. And if one of them is disobedient, then it’s ‘chop’ and off with his head.” “Dreadful. Ciri?” “Uh-huh?” “I think they’ll cut off your head.” “My head?” “Naturally. After all, your grandmamma, the queen, arranged a marriage with Kistrin and sent
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