"Ciri," she echoes, with the very slightest of nods. The use of titles and formality were bound into respect, but the wishes of an individual came before what some might consider idiosyncrasies. Herian makes no offer of her own given name in turn, more out of carefulness than anything else. Her titles were hard-earned, hard-won. She is not so willing to part with them.

Herian frowns very slightly, though... to be fair it probably isn't very obvious, when her general existence is hinged on frowning slightly at all times. It certainly isn't directed at Ciri.

"Their hope was reckless." A quiet agreement, marked only with that eternal calm. "Not without its own virtue, when considered by particular lights, but we are fortunate it went so smoothly as it did."

And her tone acknowledges that the smoothness she refers to was not smooth at all, but even so. No one died. None were gravely injured.