Jaskier manages to maintain his scandalized expression as she accuses him of collecting rumors about himself. Well he mostly maintains it--his moe of outrage does turn into an open mouthed smile before she finishes. When she plays the meek and lowly maid, though, with her hair wreathed around her, perched atop his thighs, his backside still sore from how lovingly she had fucked him not an hour ago?

Jaskier laughs, honestly and brightly and leans forward until his forehead rests on her shoulder. He is laughing still, and it shakes him and her and ripples the water. Lest she think he is laughing at her, he smooths his hands up her sides and then ghosts them along her skin until he can settle them on either side of her face.

"Principle and talent, she says? Scurrilous lies," he announces mirthfully and leans in to peck his lips against hers. "Beautiful words from a beautiful woman who will ever ruin me for lesser women, if I am not very careful."

He was never very careful.