[ Ciri grimaces, glancing away. ]

More like a champion for my own peace of mind. Don't overthink it.

I don't need any ballads.

[ Now she feels like she's made things awkward, somehow. Ciri fights the urge to pull her arm away. Not even sure what's happened, Ciri decides to steer the conversation away from Geralt and the potential for more discomfort and to something hopefully easier and more familiar to them both. ]

So tell me, what is your favorite drink at this place you're taking me to? What do you recommend?