Technically, it's possible there isn't anything up the stairs, but Ciri seems to know, innately, that there should be. She doesn't catch Geralt's look, too busy looking around herself, taking in every detail as they walk. Pausing at the top of the steps for a moment, Ciri peers over the railing to observe the great hall from above before turning to catch up to Geralt once more with the quick, excited movements of someone who simply can't wait to see what comes next.

He shows her down the hall and to a room that must be his (for some reason, she's quite sure it must be), where she lingers in the doorway and looks around expectantly. It's not until Geralt steps further inside to approach the small collection of oddities on the dresser that Ciri follows, letting the door stay half open behind her.

"They are?"

She looks surprised, but reaches out to take the flower from Geralt's fingers, admiring it curiously. It is beautiful, a fierce little thing, glowing softly in her hands. Her eyes move over the other items. They seem unfamiliar to her, more unfamiliar than the keep, even though she has no memory of any of it. Still, if Geralt says they are hers, she believes him.

Looking up again at Geralt, with an innocent curiosity, she asks, "Where is my room?"