[ Zero shock, when Jaskier appears once more juggling a handful of purchases. Geralt, equally to the shock of no one, has purchased nothing except a cup of honeyed melons, the evidence of which he's long consumed. If there's one thing he's appreciated about being in a warmer climate, it's the fruit. Harder to come by when the land's covered in frost and snow for a quarter of the year or more. Around these parts, there's always something no matter the season, and it isn't near as costly to buy.

He doesn't look over his shoulder, even as he replies with a grunt. ] You can afford your own jewellery.

[ No one's ever accused him of being a romantic. He lifts a round silver brooch, engraved with delicate flowers. Learning Ciri's tastes is difficult. He grew up with men whose gifts, if they ever gave any, often consist of practical blades and equipment. He's given Ciri a sword and a dagger. He's searching for something...that isn't a weapon this time, but that she'd want to wear.

Maybe there's someone who can help. Namely, a certain bard who enjoys shopping. Now Geralt does glance over his shoulder. ] Ciri was born around Belleteyn. You bought a medallion for me once. [ Once he retrieved his actual medallion, he set Jaskier's on the hilt of his sword. ] I thought she might like the same.