[He turns his head, pressing his lips to the top of her head. It is not the first time he wishes he could take this pain Ciri feels so deeply away; perhaps into himself. (And it is not the first time he wishes someone would take his own.)]

I know. [He's quiet, thumb and index finger rubbing together, playing with the rings there. Though dough sticks to the metal, he's always enjoyed wearing them. Even when kneading.]

But if she knows you as well as I suspect, she knows you would've tried to stop her. [And there's nothing wrong with that. He slips his arm around her and simply leans, leaving his drink alone.] And I bet she trusts you may have been able to do so.