[ she stills under his gaze, letting him see whatever it is he finds. she knows what she has done, what injuries she has hidden and what version she is presenting to him here, how much of herself is hidden under it. for jaskier, it had been about controlling his worry, about the things he could not help with, but would carry with him. for geralt, yennefer isn't exactly sure the reasons are the same, but it does feel a bit like armor. like a wall she's constructed, despite how it had been her who had asked to meet. to close the distance.

geralt closes the distance between them and yennefer is painfully aware of the exact distance he decides to keep, the space between his hand and her back, the small amount of air that he does not close. a part of her supposes she has just as much power in this situation as he does, that she is just as able to step towards him, to close it herself.

instead, geralt swallows and pushes open the door, and yennefer steps inside, lifts her skirt as she too steps over moglad's form. at the mention of thancred, yennefer nods, albiet distractedly, and moves about the space to find glasses for them both and set them on the table. ]

My only regret is that I wasn't able to see it myself. [ geralt will understand the multiple layers to her tone where it concerns grigory - her own satisfaction at hearing of his death, the sadistic edge to her humor. she snorts, shakes her head. ] There are rumors that his insides were still splattered along the walls when we returned from Nocwich, but- [ a shrug. as thancred told him, yennefer had been unconscious, and even now she's in no place to be able to leave her bed, even if she wanted to. ]

The King's decided to show his face as well, though his interests lie more in Thorne's continued relationship with Solvunn than anything else.