"Geralt was nearing or just over a hundred," she said with a dry little smile as she looked up at Sweeney. "I have a thing for older men."

It felt easier to try to grasp her normal, maybe slightly flirtatious self in the midst of this strange grief. Nina looked at the little bit of liquor left in the glass and she plucked it up, taking just enough for the taste to sit on her tongue.

"He wanted to go home. He had people waiting for him. A daughter, lovers. I should be glad that he isn't so painfully apart from them anymore." As she said it, her hand fell to rest over the bump of her belly. It was getting harder to hide, even in her loose dresses. "Zoya was right. Whatever else I might be, I'm still a silly girl."