Judging by the crowd that had attended the wake of the poet, many, many ladies of various ages and patrons of the arts together, his work touched many. With enough of their drink, perhaps Yennefer will amuse Jaskier with whatever lines she can recall from A Meditation on Spring. Having more of a head for chaos, potion work and more scientific measures, she doesn't have the poetic soul. His thoughts on another's work would be wonderful to know.

Her own expression mirrored Jaskier across the table, she pushes her hair over her shoulder as it moves. "I had believed I could make an impact in court at the time. You are so very right. They were appealing to my curiosity as well as my desire to stretch my wings." A full lunged sigh and she goes for a drink of her own just because. This information spills from her without any consideration or thought. The bard speaks all the time, and she listens. And it isn't the drink that is lowering her guard.

This tidbit of King Foltest makes her eyes widen. Temeria is Triss Merigold's kingdom. A witcher saving a princess. Oh. Oh wait. Yennefer takes another long drink holding up her finger to him as if to hold the thought in place with it until she finished. That was a significantly deeper pull on her cup that before. Ah, that time it did burn more and she has a small cough for it. "Ahemmm. I know it was a curse. Triss told me. Have you met her? Curly chestnut hair, beautiful skin. Loves blue the way I love black."