<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/2mRsgJL.jpg)</div>"Heh, I get that a lot," Krysia said, with a hint of pride in her voice. "It will be a matter of time to see if the lad recovers by the morrow."<br/><br/>Krysia yawned and stretched. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a favor."<br/><br/>Going up to the sergeant, she fluttered her eyelashes. "I heard you have one of the only rooms in the inn. Do you mind if I stay in it for the night?"<br/><br/>She then whispered in his ear. "I don't mind sharing."<br/><br/>Her flirtations were a mask. In addition to wanting a private room to herself, she did not wish to tell the soldiers that their sick comrade may turn into a ghoul; it would cause the patient to panic and possibly do something rash. But the sergeant seemed to know she was very talented, and perhaps letting slip her true profession then act as a source of ease. Too many folk were willing to view witchers as all sorts of foul beings, right until they're the only line of defense between them and some beast in the night. At least with the veneer of a flirtatious woman taking him to bed, would be the best way to both tell him the truth and avoid suspicion.