Wordsmith and poet of the people, Jaskier would wipe the floor with Yennefer and many others with his ability to come up with an alphabet of food items--if they decided on food items. Other objects well, he has a track record. Certainly he would come up with the entire lot. Without foreknowledge of his Oxenfurt banning, she knows his skill there.

"Could you last twenty rounds?" One of her elegant eyebrows lifted in questioning. "Let us play until ten. Then see." Ten was a rounded number. High enough for them to be giddy with drink and they would feasibly be themselves. Yennefer lifts her tin cup, the game has begun and she too assumed a poker face.

"Ah, that is how it shall be?" Friendly fire here. Her cup is lifted in a toast as she takes a long sip. Still cooled, it burned a touch. "Well played, well played."

Yennefer leaned in closer to him, violet eyes squinted before returning fire with, "I have never kissed a countess."