“I’m here to see your Lady,” Geralt said, voice low but otherwise respectful. “Of-course sir” her butler said, bowing but crinkling his eyes in distaste at the close proximity of the mutant. “If you will wait here, I shall let my Lady know you are here. You will be summoned when she is willing to meet you.” Geralt was used to the haughtiness of nobles and the distaste of ordinary folk for his kind. It still rankled though. “How long will that take?” he growled, wondering how much time was going to be wasted today waiting on some damned noblewoman. “I do not know sir. As long as My Lady desires,” the butler said disdainfully, leaving Geralt behind to wait in the hall as he wandered off. The Witcher’s eyes narrowed as he saw the man turn away from the main living quarters and head towards the wing of the building that Geralt knew housed the kitchens. He sighed as he settled down to wait. At-least the contract was done. As soon as he settled his business here, he could leave.