The attention of a room of people transforms Jaskier, it's like he has gained more energy. The skill of his fingers and sense of time and measure for as much as he has drunk is incredible. Though Yennefer knows he has been performing for the better part of twenty years. Maybe he was so accomplished that he could sing in his sleep.

Listening to the people around him raise their voices in song it was plain to see that he was renowned and loved. The bawdy songs were popular, from the grizzle faced miners to the youthful bachelors all. The crone that was playing gwent and giving fortunes croaked out the chorus of Toss a Coin. Yennefer had heard it before. The surreality was stifling a moment and she let herself nibble at Jaskier's plate, not even bothering to lend her voice to the din. At least not for that particular tune. Jaskier was under no obligation to sing such a tune even though he penned it, the public wanted what they wanted. He was as much wounded and uplifted as she.

And to pull the evening full circle once more she hears Her Sweet Kiss. Murmurs and thoughts zing in the air. Oh, the bard is going to be the next victim. That is the decree. Though how can he when the song was there before Yennefer and this---whatever it was. She smiled sweetly at him as he worked the room all the same, pretending to be deaf to all but what comes from the lute and his lips.

"Well done," both of her hands reached out to him. The disapproval mounting will not come of anything if he is in her grasp.