Death it is, then. Of course, Adella spends her last breaths on a tirade that is useless, but such histrionics are to be expected for a creature so … incomparable.
“I like Yennefer much more, but I suppose that isn’t your fault, because I do like her more than almost every Surface Dweller. Iorveth comes close, but he snaps far too much. Like a shark with one eye and a ridiculous amount of teeth. I tell him that all he needs is a proper hug, a proper kiss, or a proper kick to the face, but he doesn’t agree with me at all, and so that makes him an idiot.” She plays with the cards she’d just forsaken, making a tower that promises to fall and yet pulling in one of Ciri’s hand to join regardless of that fact. “You’re part of the list of Surface Dwellers I sort of like, you know, but mostly because you’re very pretty to look at. The best part of it is that you get to have my company, which, I don’t know if you know, is the best company you’ll ever find among other merfolk. Any other you’ll end up meeting will try to eat you. I’m sure of it. You and Geralt and Iorveth and Yennefer and everyone else. My people hate your people, and so our best cure for that is to chew you all up to tiny, little bits of bone. It’s not the worst plan there ever was.”
"I TAKE IT anyone who doesn’t agree with you is an idiot.” She half mumbles under her breath, joining in on the current task of building a house of cards, not by her own choice but because she knows the wrath her refusal to participate will incur. “So if I wasn’t pretty to look at you’d chew me up to tiny little bits of bone, like everyone else? That hardly seems fair.”
Besides, she was far from pretty, she was ugly. Even Yennefer had once called her ‘my little ugly one’ and the scar that marred her cheek did no service in improving her looks. No she was not pretty, especially compared to the mer-princess before her, whose beauty had no doubt lured hundreds of men to abandon all senses and descend with her to their watery grave. Even if others tried to deceive her into believing in her own beauty, she certainly did not see herself as so, but she was in no mind to dispute with her. Heaven knows what sort of argument that would start, and she had already promised to be on her best behavior even if Adella likely hadn’t made any such promises. Instead she focuses on the task at hand, mechanically building the fragile tower higher and higher despite the fact that it would likely topple over soon enough and incite yet another tantrum from the rusalka that would bring them right on back to square one. “If you are bored with cards and bored with me then what else, pray tell, would you want to do? And no I will not fetch a pack of gwent cards to play with you, if you didn’t like poker, then you wouldn’t like gwent.” And as soon as she finished her exasperated tirade, as if on cue, the card tower fell.
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