Victoria's dress was still stained with the swordsman's blood by the time they had made their way out the next morning. It was extremely difficult to walk, and she had Geralt there to remind her of how so.

The woman stood, leaning on her opposite leg before Roach as she ran her fingers through the horse's mane. "Does it actually satisfy you, my pain?"

Geralt couldn't hide the smile on his face as he folded the blanket, before draping it over Roach. "I didn't say anything."

"Not physically, Geralt. But you've lowered the walls inside of your mind."

The witcher froze, raising a brow as she walked around to the side of Roach. He looked down at her in surprise.

"It seems to be very easy for you to do so, ever since last night." She said, trying to play out how she would get onto the horse. "I must have loosened a screw."

"No, you tightened mine." He said, grabbing her waist. Victoria huffed quietly as he lifted her from the ground and hoisted her over Roach. His words caused goosebumps to rise upon her skin. She could almost feel the unintentional sexual tension they shared towards each other.

Geralt climbed onto Roach next, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Tell me," Geralt said as they began to move. "Maybe you can read the minds of those we come across today."

"Why would you care?" She asked.
"I grow bored. Humor me in some way."

Victoria bit down on her bottom lip and slid her hand down his side until it rested on his thigh. Geralt's eyebrows skewed, and he glanced back at her over his shoulder.

"Humor me, don't distract me."

"To humor you would be to distract you from the world." She said. "This is just a different distraction."

When they reached the next town, the two entered a small inn for a drink. Victoria did her best as she limped inside, following Geralt towards the back.

They sat down at an empty table, and Victoria began to look around at those around them. She was unaware of Geralt, who was only staring at her.

"They're all intoxicated, they have no walls." She said. Geralt leaned back and sighed.

"Start with him," he said. "The man at the table on the far left, with the scarred ear."

Victoria scanned the room until she spotted the man he described. She focused on his thoughts, shrugging.

"He's bragging about how wasted he is at the moment." She told Geralt.

"And what about the woman sitting across from us? Two tables over."

The woman was probably in her mid thirties, sitting beside another drunken man with her arm locked with his. Even though she was accompanied, she was still staring right at Geralt.

Victoria turned back around and rested her chin on her folded hands. "Can you choose someone else?"

Geralt looked at her confusedly. "What is it?"

Her blood boiled. She disliked the pinch of jealousy that rattled her body.

"She knows who are you are. . . And she wants you to kill her husband, so she can have you all to herself."

Geralt glanced over the brunette's shoulder, and the woman winked at him as her husband roared with laughter. Geralt leaned back again and grunted.

"If I knew any better, you're—"
Victoria stared at him, sending daggers through him.

"Hmm," he said, smirking faintly. He lifted his mug to his lips and took a drink.

Victoria listened as the bard in the center of the room began to sing as he played his lute.

"You think you're safe without a care. But here in Posada, you'd be wise to beware. The pile with the spike that lurks in your drawers or the flying drake that will fill you with horror."

Geralt grunted in response.

Victoria chimed in and grabbed the plate that held a loaf of bread. "He sounds nice. . ."

"Need old Nan the Hag to stir up the potion, so that your lady may get an abortion—"

"Abort yourself!" One shouted, throwing bread into his direction. Victoria turned back to face Geralt as they all threw food at him.

"Just his voice." She declared. Geralt didn't say anything.

Victoria noticed another presence, and she looked up to see the singing bard. He smiled at her, before glancing over at Geralt.

"I love the way you just. . . Sit in the corner and brood. But I can't say that about the absolutely fine lady sitting across from you."

Geralt turned his head, annoyed. "We're here to drink alone."

"Good. Yeah, good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, except. . . For you. Come on."

Victoria looked over at Geralt, hoping he wouldn't lose his patience. She slid over as the young bard moved to stand beside her.

"You don't want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less."

Geralt stared at him. "They don't exist."

Victoria cleared her throat as she turned to face the man. "Um, you were extraordinarily. . . Well."

He thanked her silently, but glanced back at Geralt. "What don't exist?"

"The creatures in your song."
"And how would you know?"

The bard stared at Geralt for a moment, and his eyes widened. "Oh, fun. White hair, two very. . . Very scary-looking swords. I know who you are."

Victoria watched as Geralt stood to his feet, leaving coin on the table. She stood quickly and followed him.

"You're the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia." The bard said.

Geralt pulled Victoria forward as he neared the exit.

"Called it!"

Victoria sighed as she tried to limp at his pace. "Geralt, he's just curious, is all—"

"A job I've got for ya. I beg you."

Victoria stopped, and so did Geralt. She turned around to see a man staring at them.

"A devil, he's been stealing our grain."

Geralt turned around as he exhaled.

"In advance, I'll pay you. A hundred ducat."

Geralt glanced down at Victoria, who shrugged.

"One fifty." Geralt said. "And you keep her under your watch, she's injured."

Victoria looked up at him. "Geralt—"

The man had already pulled a pouch out of his tunic. "I've no doubt you'll come through. You take no prisoners, so I hear."

Geralt took the pouch slowly, and he looked down at Victoria.

"I'm going with you." She said to him.

"If I could slay a devil carrying you the entire way, I would." He said. "Stay here. I'll be back soon."

Victoria hadn't even had the chance to object. The man was already walking out the door, leaving her behind.

The brunette turned around slowly, watching as he smiled awkwardly.

The woman inhaled through her nostrils, but smiled back at him.