The rain gutter has hardly a trickle. The spring has been dry the past few days. Good weather for the festivities. It hits the cobble stone in irregular, noisy splats. The throng of musicians and patrons of the arts carry on at the distance.

Yennefer takes Jaskier's other hand to be cautious. People are so very unsettled by portals. They're very reliable. Any magic has it's danger or risk. She has never, ever had an issue with her portals. Whether or not his eyes are closed, they will transport just the same. "Come." She pulls them through the swirling ring that is flung up in the space half way in the alley. The air is cold. The portal is a bit like being flung through rushing water. They are bone dry. The end of the passage comes up fast. She braces herself to keep standing or they will tumble to the ground.

This is unexpected. It's a dusty room. Not an inn or a salon. The light from the window causes the flecks to dance and almost sparkle as the air keeps moving until the portal closes behind them. Papers rustle. "Is uh...is this what you had in mind, darling?" The practice room has several instruments in various states of repair propped up against large leather trunk cases. All in all, it looks relatively untouched.