Nina got water for herself; it was something to hold, and it wouldn't hurt to drink after her walk home. She debated sitting as well, but she felt too restless for that. Maybe it was draw it out, but she was trying to find the words. She wasn't much for being flowery when delivering serious news.

It would be better when it was all out, and there was no sense in stalling any longer.

"I'm pregnant, Geralt. And unless some saint or god has taken a liking to me, it can't be any one's but yours."