Geralt's face grew low-lidded, sleepy, almost warm. It was pink from the alcohol, painfully visible on a complexion without pigment. His lashes fluttered over his strange eyes.

"Had one of those, too. Mine was coming up on his fifth century, though. And a vampire. Someone to make sure I wasn't too much of a hard-ass. Apologize for me when I was. Keep an eye on everyone, keep them safe when I had to ... take care of things."