The entire walk to the house in the woods felt heavy. At first she had written off a few strange symptoms as simply feeling off, but it hadn't taken much at all to know for certain. A part of her felt terrible that she'd already spoken to two other people without telling Geralt first, but she needed-- she needed to get her thoughts out. To come to terms with the reality. She still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about everything, but Greta and Inej were right: she had to talk to Geralt. That would make everything clear.

Or at least, she hoped so.

It had been more than a month since the strange shooting star in Darrow, since so many people fell victim to weird wishes. Nina knew this was some strange fall out from that, but it hadn't disappeared when everything went back to normal. If it had, well. She wouldn't be walking this slowly.

The cabin was more furnished now than it had been a month ago, cozy and comfortable to live in. Nina took a deep breath and let it go slowly; she focused on her own pounding heart and slowed it down, forcing her body to calm. She tried to do the same for the churning in her stomach. She didn't know why she was so anxious: this could have one of just a handful of outcomes, and she would be fine no matter what.

When she saw Geralt out in the little garden he'd started, she smiled. Whether she liked it or not, she'd become terribly fond of this man. She was rather certain she loved him, but she still held tight to that word, afraid of it.

"Oh good, you're home," she said with a smile. A breeze whipped the skirt of her dress: she always wore red when she did her tailoring and Grisha work in the city.

After winter's first real bitter snap, Nina was pleased to find Geralt of Rivia spending more time in the city, either in his own apartment or hers. She'd made it clear that he was welcome to stay with her as often and as long as he wanted. She lived on the top floor, which meant no noise from above, and she kept a comfortable home these days. She gave him a key and left the invitation open.

She'd been looking for jobs for a few months; maybe she was being too picky. She helped Geralt when he had jobs that she could be useful for, and she'd started a small side business doing tailoring and "aura calming." She didn't have Genya's talent for it, but she had some skill, especially since Inej started helping her find things to include in her tailoring kit to make the things she needed.

She did most of her work out of her apartment, which meant that some days she had clients leaving or getting work done when Geralt came in from the woods.

"The effects will fade in a week," she warned the middle-aged man that had been sitting at her kitchen table. "Likely the hair first, then skin, then the eyes. If you want it to last longer, you'll have to come for touch-ups."

Nina ushered him to the door and winked at Geralt when she saw him come in.

Nina couldn't remember the last time she had fun like this. She'd had fun, happy moments, but all of them against the backdrop of something moving beyond her control. Maybe Darrow was no different, in the end, but at least here she wasn't coerced into debt, she wasn't constantly waiting for the next thing she would have to do for the gang that offered her protection. She still worried: she worried about Ravka, about the moment she left behind, about her friends.

But all day today she had not let a single one of those things bother her. She'd danced until she felt like she would drop and only then did she let Geralt guide her away from the square and the music, and she happily pressed against his side, her arm draped around his waist.

"Thank you," she said warmly; in the dying sunlight her eyes had become a deep green. The gratitude was heartfelt, the feeling infused each simple word. Her cheeks were still flush from their joyous exertion. "It's been a long, long time since I danced like that."