[ For a moment, Ciri freezes. The briefest pause, a hesitation of her hand between bread and bowl. She takes a breath, and the moment passes, and then she takes another bite and chews slowly.

He's not wrong. And also, he is. None of this would have happened if he'd been with anyone but her -- that's what she believes, and it might sound a bit egotistical, but she has cause for that sort of conclusion. It's difficult to explain, even though she wants to. He deserves to know, and yet there's so much she can't, won't tell him.

Ciri likes Viktor. He's smart, competent, easy enough to talk to. He has interesting ideas, and he's proven himself a reliable friend and ally over the weeks they've known each other. But she doesn't trust him, not wholly, and so she knows she cannot tell him as much as he probably deserves to know. It's for both their safety. So, despite his attempt at reassurance, probably unkindly, she remains silent for some time.

Finally, Ciri sets her bowl down, cleaned with the last of her bread, and looks back up at him. ]

It wasn't yours either. [ She concludes, knowing he probably blames himself for being a burden. The conclusion he'd come to, that she'd saved his life, makes that clear enough. Maybe it's not wholly inaccurate, but Ciri wasn't thinking of it that way; she was saving both of them. She'd promised to watch his back out there. She was only keeping her word. Neither of them could have expected this. ]

I'm going to take a bath.

See if you can't beg some stronger stuff than stew from the innkeep. Tell him I've got credit with several of the local merchants. We can pay, given some time. Use my name. He might have heard of me.

[ It's not a boast; she does business in Aquila fairly regularly, these days. ]