Nina watched him steadily, her entire demeanor soft. She had just given him something big to process, and if he needed a minute, she could give him that. A smile quirked her mouth.

"Yeah, I needed a minute, too," she admitted. She didn't want Geralt to think he was alone in needing to process this, in needing to get around how it should have been impossible, how it had been impossible, right up until it wasn't. Geralt was sterile; Nina was a Heartrender. At no point in her life had her body been beyond her own control. But she had gotten careless. Zoya would have had a thing or two to say about it, but Zoya wasn't here.

Just her, just Geralt.

She moved closer and stroked her fingers over his bearded jaw. She set her glass of water down and finally sat down at the table with him.