[He looks thoughtful at first, as Geralt makes his proclamation-- it's a fair one, and he knows Lucio to have been a bonafide tyrant, has seen him on the battlefield and knows how bloody-minded the man could be, and then there are all the casual cruelties he inflicted on the city, his lack of assistance in the flooded district, how the bodies had piled in the streets whilst he feasted at the palace, the things he'd done to Julian himself. And yet, he'd still spent the last three years torturing himself over the possibility that he had killed the man, had come back to Vesuvia for answers and to finally pay with his life for his crimes. But whilst there are still holes in his memory, holes he'd been hoping his date with the Hanged Man would reveal, he is aware of his own innocence now, at least in that regard. That he didn't incinerate Lucio that night.
The thoughtfulness breaks around another of his smiles when Geralt makes his closing statement, though, his brief moment of solemn musing lifting.]
Quite.
[He goes to place one elbow on the hand-rest that separates them, almost misses, then drops his chin into his open palm.]
But now, I believe, it's your turn. I like hearing a good story almost as much as I enjoy telling one.
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The thoughtfulness breaks around another of his smiles when Geralt makes his closing statement, though, his brief moment of solemn musing lifting.]
Quite.
[He goes to place one elbow on the hand-rest that separates them, almost misses, then drops his chin into his open palm.]
But now, I believe, it's your turn. I like hearing a good story almost as much as I enjoy telling one.