"Make no mistake that he wanted to fuck me. Badly. It was anticipating a long, drawn out courtship of some manner. He didn't deserve to die. Though I suppose the indignity of having his virtue be-smudged after I got what I wanted would have been dreadful for his small mind. I was pretty sure he had a small cock too." As if to rinse away her callousness, Yennefer takes a sip of sympathy.

Jaskier is the only person to make her smile so much her face ached. Patiently waiting out his outburst and drink--that is a drink--Yennefer reached out to pat his palm. "Now, now. He didn't--tell me directly. He was thinking about that time. I happened to see it." The way Yennefer delicately shrugged makes mind reading seem so simple.

Politics! Oh here they go. This was not one she could deny. That's what happens when you're a hero at a battle or something. Yennefer keeps drinking and lets her lip curl some. "Dull business with even duller people." She reaches for the bottle. Another cast of frost upon it.

"More for you before we carry on, my lord?"