Chapter Text
"Morning, Roach," Geralt said, entering the mare's stall and having her greet him back with a headbutt to his chest. Petting her neck, he said, "Sorry I've had so little time for you, I got a contract. Something is actively killing people so I haven't had the chance to take you out for a ride but I know that the stable staff here take good care of you."
Roach's flicking ears still showed her displeasure at the neglect.
"Don't look at me like that. I haven't been able to be with Jaskier the way I want to either," Geralt chided her gently, although a handful of oats he offered seemed to mollify her. Starting to brush her, he continued, "I'll try to take you out for a short ride today but no promises. You might have to put up with boredom and strangers for a bit longer. Hopefully Jaskier will come to see you at some point. He's been alright with going downstairs alone despite the crowd so maybe he'll be able to go outside for long enough to hurry here, wouldn't take him even a minute. I wish I didn't have to leave him alone so much but there's no way around it."
The huff Roach gave sounded agreeing.
"Yeah, him trailing after me would be a bad idea. Anything could happen and I'm not going to put him in possible danger. Besides, he doesn't even want to follow me around for this."
Which made things simpler. He'd be constantly distracted if Jaskier were with him, far too tuned in and familiar with his anxiety even just interrogating people would cause.
"He's still helping, though," Geralt said, moving on to checking Roach's fetlocks and hooves. "Jaskier solved a puzzle box and is working on a code. He doesn't need to do so but he really wants to and honestly, I'd probably get fucking nowhere. Still, he shouldn't be stressing about my job. He's got enough going on as is."
Not that he needed to tell Roach that. She had been there right from the start, the one steady unchanging thing among all the upheaval. The only difference being how close she and Jaskier had become during the past year.
"It's good that Essi and Shani are here. They'll be good for Jaskier. He has other friends around too to make sure he doesn't have to be completely alone but I doubt he's suddenly going to confide in them and tell everything. He did that with Shani. Took me by surprise but he handled it so much better than before and now that she knows, she can help properly."
Roach's soft huff sounded satisfied. She too was clearly happy about it.
"Essi too knows a bit about the feast. We also let her know that we're together. She's getting over it faster than I feared."
Not that he had doubted that she eventually would.
Done tending to Roach, Geralt bid her goodbye and exited the stable. Deciding to start with the key, he headed to Nowakowski's.
His knocking was answered almost immediately, door flinging open and a little girl staring at him with wide startled eyes.
"You're not daddy!" she accused shrilly, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I'm not," Geralt agreed quietly, not sure what else to do.
"Marta! I've told you not to open the front door," Tekla admonished, worry shining through in her voice and hurrying down the hallway to them.
"I want daddy to come home," Marta sniffled, clinging to Tekla as she lifted her into her arms.
"I know, darling, I know," Tekla sighed softly, rubbing her shaking back before focusing on Geralt. "Hello again. Have you found something out?"
"Hmmm." Geralt nodded.
"Please, come in." Tekla said, backing to give Geralt space to do so. "Would you mind terribly if I got Marta settled first? I'll ask one of the maids to bring you refreshments in the meantime."
"That's fine," Geralt agreed, following her into the parlor. Taking a seat in a plush armchair, he watched as Tekla gave brief orders to a maid before swiftly carrying crying Marta away.
If he had felt strangely out of place last time surrounded by the casual show of wealth, sitting alone made the feeling only stronger. There was nothing about him that complimented the rich fabrics, dark wooden furniture polished to perfection, and the decorative knick knacks. Just the closest candelabra to him most likely cost more than his boots. It was ridiculous.
It didn't take long for the maid to return carrying a tray of tea and cake.
"Here you go, sir," she said, serving him.
"Thanks." Geralt nodded. Deciding to use the opportunity to talk with her, he asked, "Have you worked long here?
"Yes, sir. Closer to eight years now," the maid said, avoiding Geralt's eyes.
"You knew Szlama Nowakowski well, then? Also, you don't have to call me 'sir'."
"Yes, sir."
Stifling a sigh, Geralt continued, "Did you notice anything abnormal about his behavior or something happening around him before his death? It could be important."
"No, sir," the maid said, glancing at the door Tekla had exited from and gripping the tray tighter.
"Hmmm."
"I really should go," the maid said hurriedly, glancing at the door again.
"She's not returning yet, I can hear her upstairs with Marta. There's no way she can listen in and I won't let her or the city guard know my source," Geralt pressed, watching her knuckles turn snow white as her grip kept tightening.
"It's nothing." The maid shook her head. "There was nothing out of the ordinary before his death."
"Some kind of a habit then?" Geralt guessed.
The startled look was an answer enough.
"I must get back to my duties," the maid mumbled, almost running away before Geralt could try convincing her to share.
This time he didn't bother stifling his sigh.
He had finished the slice of cake and half of the tea by the time Tekla returned. Smoothing the skirt of her black dress, she sat in an armchair facing Geralt. "I'm terribly sorry to leave you alone like that. I'm glad you got the refreshments at least despite me being such a poor hostess."
"It's fine. I just have some questions," Geralt said, taking the key out and handing it to her. "This was found in a box that was hidden in the home office. Do you know where it's supposed to go?"
"Oh. I wasn't very involved with Szlama's work but I can try…" Tekla said, furrowing her brow as she examined the key. "I think it's a house key, probably for an older building. Newer keys tend to be a bit lighter and this one is quite sturdy. It could of course be for a warehouse or a shop instead of a residence, it's impossible for me to tell more just from looking at it. I'm very sorry I can't be of more help."
"That's alright, I didn't expect you'd know the exact address," Geralt said, shoving off the slight disappointment. It wasn't as if answers tended to drop into his lap. As Tekla returned the key, he asked, "You said that you don't recognize the other victims' names but does The Rolling Rook say anything to you?"
"It's… a gambling establishment…?" Tekla said slowly.
"Yes. Did Szlama play there?"
"Once in a while, I think. He did have a fondness for dice but didn't have much time for it. Is the place involved with what happened to him?" Tekla asked, gripping her dress anxiously.
"The name has been brought up a couple of times but it's too early to say," Geralt brushed the question off. "Although, how often did he gamble?"
"Maybe a couple times a month, not very often like I said," Tekla said, looking dissatisfied with his vagueness.
"Hmmm." At least it confirmed Nowakowski also visiting the establishment. It wouldn't have been too hard for him to simply not let Tekla know the true frequency. Deciding to change the topic, Geralt asked, "Do you have a list of Szlama's properties showing their age?"
"I think there's a reference sheet of a sort. I can try to find it for you," Tekla said, standing up and gesturing to Geralt to follow her upstairs to the office. Looking through the drawers, she said quietly, "I truly do want to help as much as possible, please don't doubt that. Losing Szlama has been difficult and not knowing why or what happened has only made it worse."
"I'm thankful for your help," Geralt said, letting his eyes roam around. Nothing much aside from a window being open seemed to have changed in the room, things being where he remembered.
"I'm glad," Tekla said, offering him a small smile and a leather bound journal. "Here. It has a list of the properties and brief summaries of them."
"Thanks. I'll bring it back when I don't need it anymore," Geralt said, taking it. Deciding not to trust in the honesty of the city guard, he added, "You should pay a visit to sergeant Luiz in a couple of days. He'll have a sizable sum of gold for you to pick up. It was in the same box as the key. Any guesses why Szlama would have hidden it?"
"Oh, that's unexpected." Tekla blinked. "Thank you for letting me know. As for why… Maybe he was saving it for a rainy day? It's prudent to have savings, after all."
"I suppose," Geralt sighed, unconvinced.
Jaskier sighed, craning his neck to stare at the ceiling. Not that he'd find the answers there but at least it wasn't ink on paper. He knew he was close to cracking the code, the answers right at his fingertips, but the words were starting to swim and cause a headache. Maybe taking another break wouldn't be too bad of an idea despite it not being that long since lunch. Stepping away had been helpful the first time. Maybe it wouldn't be him just willfully wasting precious time.
Time they didn't have to spare.
Contemplating taking a break just because he was getting uncomfortable was probably selfish after all.
Sighing again, Jaskier looked back at his notes and picked up his pen. Idly tapping it and mouthing the syllables of the runes, he tried to organize them into recognizable patterns.
The sudden knocking on the door caused him to jerk his pen, leaving a squiggle and broken paper in its wake.
"Jaskier? Are you in?" Essi's voice called out.
"Ye— Yeah," Jaskier stammered, heart racing as he went to open the door.
"Did I scare you?" Essi frowned, eyes taking his appearance in.
"Just startled. Sorry. Do you want to come in?" Jaskier offered, shaking his hands to get rid of the familiar tingling in his fingers.
"Thanks," Essi said, going to look at the haphazard piles of papers and books covering the table. "Are you composing something?"
"I wish but no. Trying to crack a code for Geralt," Jaskier said, following her.
"Ooh, interesting!"
"More like incredibly frustrating," Jaskier grumbled, glaring at the ruined paper.
"It's in Elder runes?" Essi asked, lifting a sheet to read. "Have you tried to match the syllables to Common or Nilfgaardian instead?"
"First thing I tried." Jaskier nodded.
"Thought so."
"Did you want something?" Jaskier prompted when Essi kept reading silently.
"I wanted to see if you're alright. You and Geralt left so abruptly last night. Not that I blame you, Valdo was out of line," Essi said, focusing all of her attention on him. It was almost uncomfortable in its intensity with the way she seemed to be trying to find the answers through sheer will.
A small fond smile still found its way to his lips. Gods, how he had missed her. More than he had even realized during the months of upheaval.
"I'm okay now. We talked things out with Geralt," Jaskier said, dragging a chair away from the desk to sit in. "He even finally knows that I'm a viscount."
"I really don't understand how you managed to keep that from him for so long," Essi said, incredulous note in her tone.
"Skill?" Jaskier offered.
"More like a chronic need for avoidance."
"Poppet, you wound me."
"Stop calling me Poppet," Essi huffed, just like she tended to do at the nickname. It was familiar. A fond little game, a gentle push and pull.
"I— Sorry. Sorry, Essi."
"Jaskier?"
"Sorry. You're right, I shouldn't call you that. You keep telling me so. Sorry," Jaskier mumbled, the cold tingling returning to his fingers as he clutched his beads and lowered his eyes. He should have remembered that Essi despised being called Poppet. No one else but him even used it. He should have stopped doing so after being told the first time. Not having gotten into the habit. Not have kept making her uncomfortable time after time after time. Not—
"Hey, Jaskier. Jaskier, look at me." Essi's voice cut in.
He didn't want to see her anger. He still did as asked.
"There you are," Essi said softly, meeting his eyes. "Can you take a deep breath for me?"
It ended up stuttering in his chest, passing his lips as unsteady gasps.
"That's it, keep breathing. You're doing great," Essi said, slowly kneeling in front of him. "Jaskier, you know that I don't actually mind you calling me Poppet, right? I would have made it clear right from the start if I truly wanted you to drop it."
"Ah." That did ring true, Essi had never had trouble speaking her mind and then some.
"It'd be strange if you stopped now. I'd miss it."
"Oh."
"You're the only one who gets to call me Poppet. It's a right reserved for my brother and no one else," Essi said, soft tone contrasting with the intense seriousness of her blue eyes. "Do you understand me?"
"I… Yeah. Thank you," Jaskier whispered, heart unclenching. Gesturing at himself, he said, "I'm sorry for… all this. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with my overreaction."
"Stop that. You did nothing wrong," Essi said, still kneeling, still holding steady eye contact.
There were no lies on her face.
"You'll let me know if you want me to stop calling you Poppet, right? Won't let me keep going if you change your mind?" Jaskier checked, easing his fingers open one by one so he could fidget instead of gripping his beads.
"I promise to." Essi nodded, brushing her wayward lock of hair out of her eyes. There was a long thoughtful pause before she continued, "Jaskier, is there something you don't want me to call you anymore?"
She truly knew him far too well. A blessing and a curse depending on the situation.
"I don't really like being referred to as Songbird but it's not like you've been calling me that regularly anyway." Jaskier shrugged.
"I'll stop completely," Essi said immediately with such determination it brought the small fond smile back on Jaskier's lips.
"Essi, can I—" Jaskier stopped, swallowing.
"Yeah?"
"...It's silly," Jaskier mumbled.
"If you can't be silly with me, then with whom?" Essi said, matching his smile with a brighter one.
"Convincing argument, I guess," Jaskier said, taking a deep breath before asking, "Can I hold your hand for a second? Try at least?"
"Of course!" Essi said, smile growing almost blinding as she offered her right hand.
Her visible excitement helped, made it easier to trust that she wasn't just begrudgingly appeasing him.
"Please don't move," Jaskier said quietly, hovering his hand above Essi's. He wouldn't be able to deal with her clasping his hand, holding him. She wouldn't purposefully restrict his movements but it'd still go badly. He wasn't sure of when or if he'd be able to gather enough courage for a second try if things went sideways.
"I won't."
He trusted her promise.
Trusted her.
"I'll touch you now…?" Jaskier said, trying to focus on the happiness dancing in Essi's eyes instead of the cold dread clawing at his chest.
Essi was safe. His little sister. She wouldn't do anything he didn't want. She was safe.
Essi's hand was unmoving as he brushed his fingertips against it, the only change being her smile somehow managing to brighten even more at the briefest touch. She truly was like the sun, warm and blinding in her happiness.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Jaskier laid his hand on top of Essi's and pressed gently into the touch.
"I love you. Thank you," Jaskier whispered, yanking his hand away and quickly backing a few steps to leave his chair between them.
"I love you too," Essi said, soft and sincere. She didn't even seem bothered by his sudden need for distance. "Is it alright if I stand up?"
"Yes." Jaskier nodded, unable to stop staring at each movement she made and feeling like he was close to bolting. Thankfully Essi kept moving slowly, clearly noticing his skittishness. He really didn't deserve her.
"Is Geralt out investigating?" Essi asked, changing the topic and taking a seat in the other chair.
"Yeah, he left in the morning," Jaskier said, glad his voice didn't hitch. "No idea when he's coming back."
"Thought so," Essi said. "I know you have the code to crack but would you like to go for a walk with me? It'd get you out of your head for a bit which I think would do good for you."
"I can't," Jaskier mumbled, averting his eyes. "The crowds would be too much."
"That's alright. I could still keep company if you want?" Essi offered, tone just as pleasant as before.
It still felt like he had disappointed her.
"I'd like that," Jaskier said. After a moment of hesitation he ventured, "We could go see Roach? She's at the stable."
That should be doable. And the way Essi's expression brightened again would be worth the momentary discomfort of being outside without Geralt.
"Sure! Let's go."
"After you," Jaskier said, opening the door.
Maybe he should be grateful that his anxiety surged only once they were almost by the front door of the tavern. But he could do this. It'd be a very brief walk outside and Essi was with him. Nothing would happen. He knew it. He wasn't sure if he believed it.
"We can go back if you want," Essi said, noticing his slowing steps.
"No, no. I want to do this." Jaskier shook his head. "I've been outside without Geralt before, just not in populated places…"
"I'm not going to let anyone touch you, even by accident," Essi promised, tossing her hair out of her eyes.
"I know you'll do your best." That he even believed.
It was sweet how Essi made sure no one was even close when they stepped outside. It didn't stop his heart from pounding with anxiety but at least he wouldn't have to skirt around strangers. Jaskier immediately beelined to the stable, barely keeping from jogging and Essi matching his speed without a comment.
The familiar scent of hay and horses was calming.
"Hi, girl. Sorry I didn't come to see you earlier. It's been rather hectic. Not a good excuse but it's the truth," Jaskier greeted Roach, grabbing her brushes.
"Hello, Roach," Essi echoed, following him into her stall. Seeing Jaskier start brushing her after Roach gently headbutted his chest in a greeting of her own, she asked, "Has Geralt really given you permission to tend to her?"
"Yeah, I've been taking care of Roach since— since the feast. I've been riding her a lot too while traveling," Jaskier said, patting Roach's neck. "She's been an absolute darling."
"Seriously?" Essi asked, clearly surprised. "I remember Geralt disliking anyone else but him even interacting with Roach."
"I was doing really badly right after," Jaskier said quietly, focusing on the mare so he didn't have to look at Essi. "Geralt realized that Roach felt easy and safe to be around so he pushed some of the responsibilities of her upkeep on me so I'd actually do something. She's been getting double the attention ever since. There's no way Geralt would actually stop doting on her just because someone else does so too."
"Oh."
The note of sadness in Essi's voice shot right through him. He had known she'd pick up on the allusion of how he had been pretty much incapacitated but he refused to lie. Pick and choose what to tell, yes, but he wasn't going to insult her like that.
"I'm doing much better by now," Jaskier added quickly. "Still, working with Roach is really nice and I got into the habit. She's honestly such a sweetheart too."
"You do seem more relaxed than inside," Essi said, tilting her head. "Do you think either Roach or Geralt will bite my fingers off if I pet her?"
"No," Jaskier chuckled, watching as Essi slowly offered her hand for the mare to smell.
"Jaskier says you're actually a sweetheart so please don't nip me," Essi said as Roach snorted and eyed her suspiciously.
"Come now, Roach, play nice. We like Essi, Geralt included. You've also seen her before so no need for that," Jaskier said, pausing his brushing.
A softer huff and Roach lowered her head to bump Essi's palm with her muzzle.
"Good girl, Roachie!" Jaskier said, restarting the brushing as Roach let Essi pet her cheek.
"Yes, you are!" Essi agreed, smiling. "I think this is the first time I've gotten to touch you, Roach. Thank you for playing along. And thank you so much for having been there for Jaskier. I hope you'll keep doing so."
"Essi…"
"It's true. I'm glad she was there to help. I only wish I could have helped too," Essi said seriously.
"You did just by existing. I thought of you sometimes," Jaskier said. "Besides, you're helping me now more than you even know."
"That's something at least," Essi sighed.
"It's all I could want and more than I'd ask," Jaskier said sincerely, meeting Essi's eyes.
The words didn't seem to have the intended effect as Essi's expression twisted. "I'm not a child anymore."
"No, you're not," Jaskier agreed, bewildered.
"You don't have to shield me from whatever happened. I'm not naive to what can happen out in the world. I promised not to ask and I won't, but I need you to understand that you can talk to me, that you can ask for my help and support," Essi said heatedly, taking a step back as Roach snorted again and shifted around. "Don't stay silent as an attempt to protect me."
"I'm not—"
"Don't you dare to say that you're not doing so," Essi cut him off sharply.
She was right.
He didn't want Essi to bear the burden of knowing everything, didn't want her to have to hear about the worst of men and wounds he still wasn't sure would fully heal. It was so easy to look at her and see the barely fourteen years old girl she had been when he had graduated and started traveling. Somewhere along the years and between their meetings she had grown up yet she'd always remain his little sister, someone he had silently sworn to protect as much as he could. As fierce as Essi was, she was also sensitive and he didn't want to be the reason for her tears. Not even when they'd be for him, not because of him.
"It's not that simple," Jaskier said faintly, petting Roach to calm both her and himself down.
"It could be," Essi stated, blowing hair out of her eyes.
"...I don't want you to hurt."
"You won't hurt me."
Jaskier shook his head. "I know you, Essi. It would hurt you just as surely as if you grabbed a jagged shard of glass with your bare hands. Except you wouldn't be able to simply drop it."
"I could help you carry it instead," Essi said, tone softening. "You've never been good at letting others see when you're hurting but please don't pretend around me. You don't have to endure alone."
"I'm not alone and I'm not pretending," Jaskier said, carding his fingers through Roach's mane. The soft yet coarse texture of it grounding him to present despite the unease boiling right under his skin. "What happened is… It's hard to deal with and even harder to think about. I'm not ready to share the details with you. Please."
"I told you that I won't ask and I mean it. I don't want you to share because you feel like you have no other choice," Essi said, tugging her wayward curl behind her ear. "But please, base the decision on what's best for you, not what you think I can handle."
That did seem like a fair request.
"I'll try," Jaskier agreed.
"Thank you." Essi smiled.
"What?" Paula snapped, opening the door after Geralt had been persistently knocking for a good while.
"Did Arkadiusz ever visit The Rolling Rook?" Geralt asked quickly, hoping Paula wouldn't immediately slam the door shut like last time.
All he got was a glare.
"I need to know," Geralt stressed.
"Fine. I'll talk with you briefly if you'll stop hounding me afterwards," Paula said, radiating annoyance. "Come in."
"Thanks," Geralt said, entering and taking care not to mirror her tone.
He had barely closed the door and taken two steps when Paula stopped and turned to look at him, arms crossed. "Speak, Witcher. I don't have the whole day."
"Did Arkadiusz gamble and did he ever visit The Rolling Rook?" Geralt asked again.
"Yes. Was that all?"
All of the victims had visited the place then.
"No. One of your neighbors mentioned that he hosted a lot of parties and short visits, could you tell more about them?" Geralt requested, watching Paula's displeased expression darken even more.
"Those aren't your concern," Paula said tensely.
"I'm trying to solve the murders and the more I know, the easier it'll be to find the commonalities between the victims. There's a chance that someone who has visited is involved," Geralt explained evenly.
Why people had to be so unhelpful when all he tried was to solve their problems was still a mystery to him even after all the years. Things would go so much faster if they'd just comply. Even those who despised Witchers would win, getting rid of him quicker. It was simply a question of practicality.
"Arkadiusz liked hosting and had plenty of friends. I'm not sure what you want to hear." Paula shrugged.
"Did something seem out of place lately? Did he quarrel with someone or owe money? What were the visits that took only minutes about? Things like that," Geralt listed, watching Paula's lips twitch at the mention of owed money.
"No, nothing seemed strange. No, he didn't fight with someone. Short visits were usually someone leaving him a message or something," Paula said, looking away.
"And being in debt?"
"He might have borrowed a bit from a friend before the last big party he hosted," Paula said reluctantly. "He wanted to entertain and impress business associates he was looking to partner up with."
"Could I get the name of this friend?" Geralt asked, pleasantly surprised Paula actually answered the question instead of kicking him out.
"Joanna Lis."
"The owner of The Rolling Rook?"
"Yes. I told you that he visited the place," Paula said. "Are we done here? I have better things to do than share gossip with you."
They clearly had different definitions of gossip.
"Are you sure that—"
"Yes! Stop trying to drag my husband's name through the mud," Paula snapped, annoyance morphing into barely restrained anger. "I'm done with people prying and trying to find fault in Arkadiusz's actions. He might not have been the perfect man but he was my husband! Go listen to the neighborhood rumor mill if you're so keen to tarnish his memory, I'm sure someone will be perfectly happy to join you in it. Now, get out of my house and don't come back!"
"Thank you for your time," Geralt said, surprised with the outburst and glad to be right by the door as she seemed ready to throw the nearest object at him if her balled fists and deathly glare were anything to go by.
Her following him just to be able to slam the door again was a completely unnecessary addition.
Staring at the sky Geralt let out a small frustrated groan. Although, maybe he should be glad that no one else had so far had such a bad reaction to him digging into their affairs.
"Don't take it too personally, young man. I told you Paula is fed up with people asking about her late husband," Berta said, holding a laundry basket and standing at the threshold of a neighboring house. "I'm surprised she even let you in."
"Need help with the sheets?" Geralt asked, deciding she might know about the rumors.
"You're such a dear. I'd be happy to have help." Berta smiled, crow's feets wrinkling her eyes.
"Hmmm."
"I hope Paula wasn't too harsh with you. She's a good woman underneath her pain, she's just lashing out," Berta said, leading Geralt to the clothes line and offering a sheet to him.
Taking it and waiting for Berta to have a solid grip on her end of the sheet, Geralt said, "It's fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Although, can I ask you a few questions?"
"Of course!" Berta said, starting to pull.
"Paula mentioned that there's rumors circulating about Arkadiusz. Do you know what they're about?"
"Oh, those are some mean spirited things. I didn't want to repeat them last time we talked. Kamińskis are decent folk." Berta shook her head.
"There could be something important in them," Geralt said, hanging the sheet to dry.
"I doubt that," Berta sighed. "You know about the frequent parties and visits. People have drawn less than savory conclusions about them. Some think they're full of indecency of all sorts, and that Paula isn't even aware of everything that goes on under her own roof."
"They think Arkadiusz was cheating on her?"
"Very much so. Some just want to see the worst in others. I told you that I've attended some of the parties and they were perfectly fine gatherings with no signs of paid women or substances better not touched. Everything was nice and proper, even after some wine," Berta said, starting to pull a second sheet with Geralt. "I'd wager that the most vocal of the gossipers haven't even stepped into the Kamińskis' home."
"Hmmm."
"Don't go believing all the rumors, young man. They'll just cloud your mind," Berta said sternly.
"I work with facts," Geralt said, Berta nodding approvingly.
Sometimes the facts just were hidden in the gossip but that didn't seem something she'd like to hear.
"That's a good lad. People are far too keen on thinking the worst of others and then circulating those thoughts."
"Human nature, I guess." Geralt shrugged.
"I suppose you'd know all about it," Berta said, studying him. "People do tell tall tales about Witchers."
"That's just part of life," Geralt replied evenly.
"I've been terribly rude, not asking your name," Berta said softly. "I'm sorry for my lack of manners."
"You don't have to apologize," Geralt said. "I'm Geralt of Rivia."
"Geralt of Rivia. I'll be sure to remember that." Berta nodded, smiling at him. "You're a good young man, don't let the nasty rumors convince you otherwise."
"Thank you," Geralt said, surprised.
Maybe he could find the time to help Berta finish the laundry before continuing on.