He reached for his trousers next, the thick hunter green curdoroy he'd worn to the festival earlier. He hadn't expected to end up here. He might have dressed more nicely if he had, at least, in his own vision of nicely. He might have brushed his teeth before leaving, might have trimmed his beard.

But Nina never seemed to mind. Never seemed to complain. That, too, was refreshingly unlike Yennefer.

"That's what you'd like?"

He sat himself down again and reached for his unbuttoned shirt. And the wine bottle.