“I regret absolutely nothing.” She had to stifle her laugh, recalling the little prank she had pulled with Triss. The great Butcher, the White Wolf, trapped by two sorceresses. She wished she could have heard his explanation. How juicy of a morsel it must have been.
“I only deserve what you’re willing to give, apparently.” His hands had been missed, and she wondered how many lives they’d taken in his absence. Yennefer settled comfortably under his touch, suddenly forgetting where they were or what she’d been reading ;
He was all she could think about now.
“But at least ten, I’d hazard a guess.”
Cascades of light poured into the chamber through the open windows on either side of Yennefer’s vanity. The sound of birds chirping and a brook babbling in the distance provided a serene ambiance. Moments like these were so infrequent that it almost felt like a dream. And perhaps it was. It didn’t make a world of difference to him.
It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d dreamt of Yennefer.
❝at least?❞
