"Hah." That does get a smirk out of Lambert, even if it won't entirely lighten his mood. "I asked that once and got stuck running extra laps of the Gauntlet for a month. I think most witchers who don't end up with a kid to take just sell what they get at the next market."

Now that he's looking at Childermass, he notices where his gaze falls, and his grin becomes a little more genuine. "Beautiful view, isn't it? This was always my favorite spot. Took ages to get up, though."

This really must be a book about him, then. It's a weird thought. He'd always wanted more recognition, but it's not like the parts of his life he wanted written down in a book where what Childermass saw just now. The thought's enough to draw a shadow over his expression, lips tightening again.