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They had been riding for nearly three days and Ciri felt almost as unkempt as she did in the village where Zola had found her. The harsh winds had whipped and tangled her hair, and a thin layer of grime still managed to stick to her skin even as the rain soaked her face.

Geralt had tucked her under his cloak when the sky grew dark and the cold winds started up several hours ago. Though the pouring rain still soaked through to her skin and the extra layer hadn't kept out much of the wind's bite - or the cold, if she was being honest. She tried not to shiver as an especially strong gust blew against her side, but her body still tensed. She felt Geralt pull her closer against his chest as they continued down the road on Roach.

Ciri knew Geralt felt bad about making them sleep in the forest each night, hidden away from any roads or signs of other travelers. But it was their only choice. Nilfgaard was close, and she didn't forget her grandmother's words.

Keep moving.

Geralt was buying food from a stall in a village square three days ago when Ciri had spotted a small group of Nilfgaardian soldiers tying up their horses outside of an inn. Her stomach dropped and she tugged on Geralt's arm. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow but quickly shoved a few coins into the merchant's hand when he saw them, lifted Ciri onto Roach's saddle before climbing on behind her, and rode out of town as quickly as they came.

Ciri felt her gut tighten when she thought of their swords swinging from their waist; of their swords slitting the throats of her people on that horrible night.

The wind picked up and the cold air shot down her throat when she sucked in a breath. She couldn't keep down the cough itching at the back of her throat after. Or the several that followed.

"We'll stop here," Geralt said a few moments later. Ciri looked up him.

"But it's still light out."

Geralt tugged Roach's reins and veered off the road, heading toward a small cave that was just peaking out from behind the brush. "It will be dark soon," he said with a grunt. "And I need to hunt."

Ciri nodded. They were low on food and she was starting to grow hungry. Though she wished they'd keep going. The soldiers could be close.

Geralt slid off Roach and gently lifted Ciri onto the ground. She walked into the dark cave with Geralt guiding Roach in front of her, peering out from behind Geralt's form and into the darkness to try to see just how deep it was. She didn't like the idea of surviving the fall of Cintra just to get eaten by a wild cat.

"Don't worry, there's nothing in here," Geralt said as he tied Roach's reins to a jagged rock near the edge of the cave.

"How do you kn-," Ciri paused, looking into his golden eyes. "You can see in the dark, can't you?"

Geralt looked back at her with a small smirk. "What makes you think that?"

"You can't have golden eyes and not be able to do something cool with them," she said matter of factly. "It would be a waste."

He responded with a short and slightly amused "Hmm." Ciri noticed he used that response a lot - oftentimes more than he actually spoke.

She grabbed her hair and twisted the water from it, watching as it dripped onto the ground, then pulled off her sodden cloak and wrung it with her hands. It wasn't nearly as fine as the satin blue cloak she had left Zola with as a thank you gift. The woman had insisted that she couldn't take it, that it was too fine a gift. As much as Ciri didn't want to part with it, she knew it was a dead give away that she was high born and she wanted to keep as low a profile as possible.

Ciri hung her brown woolen cloak on a nearby rock to dry and shivered when the cool air in the cave reached her skin.

"Here," Geralt tossed a pile of clothes to her. "They'll be a bit big, but it's better than freezing."

He turned his back to her and started digging through their other pack. She held up his extra shirt and pair of trousers (a bit big, indeed) and quickly undressed. She had to tie a knot in the waist of the pants to keep them from falling down.

Geralt was kneeling on the ground still facing away from her when she was done hanging up her soaked dress. She watched him move his finger in a sign, and a pile of dry brush and sticks that he'd gathered from along the edges of the cave suddenly ignited into small flames. Ciri quickly sat down across from Geralt and basked in the warmth.

"I need to get better at starting those," Ciri said, nodding toward the fire. "When I was out in the woods it must have taken me a half hour to get a flame going, if at all."

Geralt gave another "hmm," this time with no amusement in his tone. She hasn't brought up her time alone after escaping Cintra much, but she noticed he grew a bit sullen whenever she did.

He poked at the burning brush with a stick to help the flames grow, throwing it into the fire once he was done with it. Ciri watched Geralt sit back and stare into the flames. She spoke up again after a moment.

"What's Kaer Mohren like? My tutors never mentioned it and I haven't ever seen it on a map."

Geralt looked up at her and shifted his legs out from under him so he was sitting fully on the ground. He had told her they were going there the day before yesterday, after he decided that was the safest, and only, place for them to go with winter setting in and an army on their tail. But in typical-Geralt fashion, he hadn't given her any more details about it other than "It's where I was raised."

"It's a large keep at the top of the mountain. Cold, windy, in need of repair in most parts. We don't tell anyone where it is," he said. Ciri straightened up and looked at him with rapt attention, which pushed him to speak more. "Not many witchers still call it home and even fewer still spend the winter. Though I'm sure Vesemir will be there still when we arrive."

"Who's Vesemir?" she asked.

"He's...," Geralt paused. Ciri wasn't sure if it was because he didn't know how to describe the man or because he didn't want to. "He raised me and the other witchers in my school," he said after a moment. Her eyes lit up.

"Witchers have schools? What kind of stuff do you learn at them?"

"How to make the potions we use, how to fight. Though Vesemir always focused most on teaching us about monsters," he said.

Ciri nodded at that. "Makes sense. Grandmother always said knowing your enemy's weaknesses is what beats them in battle. Not steel," she said. After a moment of pause, she continued. "Would Vesemir ever train a girl to be a witcher?"

Geralt returned his gaze back down to the fire. Ciri noticed how serious he looked.

"You don't want to be a witcher. It's no life for a princess," Geralt said.

"I don't know about that," she said quietly and pulled her knees against her chest. "You wouldn't want to be a princess."

"No. The dresses wouldn't look quite right," he said, some of the seriousness draining away. Ciri let out a laugh, one of the first real laughs she's had in a while. Geralt's lips pulled into a small smile when she did.

"No, they definitely wouldn't. Neither would the tiara," she said, her smile ebbing away. "Nor what comes with it."

She saw Geralt look back up at her out of the corner of her eye but she kept her gaze firmly on the ground.

"I'm sorry about what happened to Cintra," he said after a moment. "To your grandmother."

Ciri felt tears start to well in her eyes. Imagining her grandmother's sweaty, dirt-stained, grieving face as the smell of smoke and fear filled the air was both numbing and gut wrenching at the same time. She didn't want to think about what happened, much less talk about it. Not yet.

She took a deep breath and pushed down the lump in her throat, which turned into a strained cough she couldn't suppress. She coughed again, sounding wheezy as several more followed.

Geralt stood up and moved in front of her. He knelt down and placed a cool hand on her forehead, frowning when he felt damp, burning skin.

"We need to get you to an inn," he sighed, removing his hand. Ciri felt panic rise in her chest. An inn meant being surrounded by strangers, and strangers meant there was a better chance of her being found by the feathered knight.

"I feel fine. It's just the... pollen in the air or something," she said. "Or maybe a small cold."

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "You don't get a fever from pollen. Or a cold. You need real shelter and food," he continued, putting his hand on her forehead again. "Maybe a healer, too."

Ciri's heart froze.

"No! It's OK, I'm fine- really," she said. Her body betrayed her when she suddenly started coughing again. She spoke softly after the coughs stopped, the lump rising in her throat again as she looked pleadingly into Geralt's golden eyes. "We can't go to an inn. It's not safe."

Geralt put a large but gentle hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes.

"If I'm with you, you'll be safe," he said."I promise."

The conviction in his voice helped loosen the knot in her chest a bit. Slowly, she realized that she had felt more safe in one week with Geralt than she had in the Cintran castle guarded by 200 soldiers and her fierce grandmother.

"Alright," she said.

Geralt nodded. "We'll ride to the next town tomorrow."

He stood up and walked over to Roach, pulling out a thin but dry blanket from her leather saddle bag. Geralt walked back over to Ciri and draped it over her shoulders.

"I'm going to hunt some dinner. Get some rest," he said. Ciri nodded and laid down against the cool ground. She watched him leave the cave with his sword before shutting her eyes.