“Very much like it,” she repeated. “To put it in a nutshell, it wasn’t a scarlet mist which has injured your friend. So what was it? Speak out. Being torn from my sleep at dawn, I have neither the strength nor the desire to probe your brain.”

“Hmm… It’s best I start from the beginning.”

“Oh, no,” she interrupted him. “If it’s all that complicated, then wait. An aftertaste in my mouth, disheveled hair, sticky eyes and other morning inconveniences strongly affect my perceptive faculties. Go downstairs to the bath-chamber in the cellar. I’ll be there in a minute and then you’ll tell me everything.”

“Yennefer, I don’t want to be persistent but time is pressing. My friend—”

“Geralt,” she interrupted sharply, “I climbed out of bed for you and I didn’t intend to do that before the chime of midday. I’m prepared to do without breakfast. Do you know why? Because you brought me the apple juice. You were in a hurry, your head was troubled with your friend’s suffering, you forced your way in here, and yet you thought of a thirsty woman. You won me over, so my help is not out of the question. But I won’t do anything without hot water and soap. Go. Please.”

“Very well.”

“Geralt.”

“Yes.” He stopped on the threshold.

“Make use of the opportunity to have a bath yourself. I can not only guess the age and breed of your horse, but also its color, by the smell.”

IV

She entered the bath-chamber just as Geralt, sitting naked on a tiny stool, was pouring water over himself from a bucket. He cleared his throat and modestly turned his back to her.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she said, throwing an armful of clothing on the hook. “I don’t faint at the sight of a naked man. Triss Merigold, a friend, says if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

He got up, wrapping a towel round his hips.

“Beautiful scar.” She smiled, looking at his chest. “What was it? Did you fall under the blade in a sawmill?”

He didn’t answer. The sorceress continued to observe him, tilting her head coquettishly.

“The first witcher I can look at from close up, and completely naked at that. Aha!” She leaned over, listening. “I can hear your heart beat. It’s very slow. Can you control how much adrenalin you secrete? Oh, forgive me my professional curiosity. Apparently, you’re touchy about the qualities of your own body. You’re wont to describe these qualities using words which I greatly dislike, lapsing into pompous sarcasm with it, something I dislike even more.”

He didn’t answer.

“Well, enough of that. My bath is getting cold.” Yennefer moved as if she wanted to discard her coat, then hesitated. “I’ll take my bath while you talk, to save time. But I don’t want to embarrass you and, besides, we hardly know each other. So then, taking decency into account—”

“I’ll turn around,” he proposed hesitantly.

“No. I have to see the eyes of the person I’m talking to. I’ve got a better idea.”