[ that is one of the many differences they face - thancred, who needs to be razor-sharp, and yennefer, who can't even consider what is to come while sober. he shakes his head, and yennefer lifts a shoulder, a silent your loss.

thancred says both, with a scoff that barely sounds more than an exhale, and her eyes fall to her own glass. she knows than thancred has come for a reason, a purpose, but she's not entirely certain in what way she needs to be prepared.

while his mind drifts to the last time he snuck off into the dark of her room, yennefer's is on tonight. on the conversations she's already had, on conversations she wonders are to come, on the heavy weight of fate that feels like it's encircling her even now. thancred starts in on a story of him and himeka, another summoned from...solvunn, she thinks? it's enough to pull her attention away from her glass, which means that her eyes are already on him when he drops his hand to stare back at her.

it is not lost on her, the parallel details, similar stories. it's the last of that story that has her brow arching, tired as her own mirthless smile grows. ]

I don't know if I was aware you had an ability to cast magic. [ which... she does not know if that's true or teasing, unwilling to go back through all of her and thancred's many conversations. perhaps that's her own fault, the fact she doesn't remember something like this, but the fact he's looked away makes yennefer think there's something more - to his story, to the reason he's come to talk to her.

she gives him a moment, then another, before she takes a sip of wine. ] If you're honestly trying to convince me, Thancred, this is not helping your case.