Geralt breathed at the sight of her, divested of her gown. He'd been wondering what the color and texture of her underwear might be for the last couple of hours. He was satisfied that his imagination had been close to the reality. Although that was, by far, the better. The reality had more details, and more little freckles, like constellations.

He sat back enough so that she could toss off the clothing, and he joined the pile with his own layers of shirts. Freed from beneath the clothing, the medallion around his neck dropped low, close to Nina, where it sensed her and gently oscillated.

"You look good at twilight. Makes your skin glow. How far do you wanna go?"