[ Cid chuckles at that. ] The right people will like you just fine, lass.

[ Somehow, he doubts she has too much trouble finding them. For all her sharpness, Ciri seems more acclimated to people than her father, and even if she wasn't... well, there are worse things for a woman to be than sure of herself.

He takes a swallow of his drink, partly to stall his answering of that question. In his minds' eye, Midadol is still eleven summers, bright-eyed and frozen in amber. ]

Sixteen, now. Last I saw her, she was off to University -- already smarter than her old man by far, for a mercy. Something else you've got in common I'm sure. [ Cid flashes her a grin. ] At any rate, I'll not force you to sit through an old man's ramblings. I'm sure you've got other business to attend.

[ He rummages in his pocket for coin enough to pay off their tab. He'll pick up with Ciri again soon enough, he's sure. ]