Geralt's eyes are fixed on Estinien, like he's trying to decide how much Estinien has absorbed his words. He's not seeking an apology. He isn't even looking for Estinien to grasp where he's coming from. He does not need Jaskier to shed light over his experiences or what lays in his mind on his behalf. The only thing he wants is for Estinien to understand that it isn't about a difference in worlds or philosophy or morals. Part of it, but not most of it. It's that he does not care to act solely upon another's behest, demanded in haste in the heat of the moment. If he chooses to do something, if he finds it necessary, it'll be on his own terms, in his own time, for reasons he owes explaining to no one except those who matter to him.

Whatever he sees in the elf's face, it's enough. "Good."

He looks away again. The matter's been settled; he sees no reason to push at it any further, either, and now that it has, some of his harder edges bleed off a little. Instead, his thoughts turn towards something he's been mulling over ever since his conversation with Himeka. He'd not asked her at the time, given how much they'd been peeling away about each other's spheres, but ever since, he's been reflecting on some of what she's said.

And there is one particular aspect that he cannot shake: "Himeka calls your world a shard. Why is that?"