[ Ciri's nose wrinkles with a touch of indignation, and she straightens up unconsciously, shoulders square. ]

I don't fancy myself anything. I'm a Witcher. That's what I do: hunt monsters.

[ She cocks a fist on her hip, with the nearly-empty cup of wine in the other. Her eyes narrow slightly on him. No, she hadn't seen anything about enchantments either, but... ]

If that's the case, shall I take it you don't wish to be seen at all?

Or do you often miss yourself in the mirror? Perhaps you miss your shadow too.