“That’s the role of poetry, Ciri. To say what others cannot utter.” “It’s a stupid role. And you’re making everything up!” “That is also the role of poetry. Hey, I hear some raised voices coming from the pond. Have a quick look, and see what’s happening there.” “Geralt,” said Ciri, putting her eye once more to the hole in the wall, “is standing with his head bowed. And Yennefer’s yelling at him. She’s screaming and waving her arms. Oh dear… What can it mean?” “It’s childishly simple.” Dandelion stared at the clouds scudding across the sky. “Now she’s saying sorry to him.”
