The curve of his smile is the spell keeping herself from crumbling in these precious seconds. Yennefer's heart still beats. Her eyes still see and there is still breath in her lungs. That gentle acceptance for her answer for what it is, for how she is keeps the order to balance the chaos. She loves him for it with such a sudden blooming sharp pain as if she were struck by an arrow.

He rises out of the water, lean and now with glossed from the fine honeysuckle and grass soap. A bard and noble viscount. "If there is one thing that I have learned today, it is not to doubt your word or skill." She reaches for his hand slowly and her own smile begins to renew on her mouth. The water sloshes, foggier from the soaps and salts. Midsummer air is warmer to be in and she notes that the maids have left towels. Jaskier's fingers get a squeeze.

"I would also like to hear more about what you find alluring." Perhaps with more time spent together to learn his ways of easy smiles and easier conversation where matters of the heart are concerned. "We can figure out the details at the market at Gors Velen. I'm sure the madam would be able to procure whatever needed. Magic can do the rest."

Lengths of silken ropes. Perhaps better suited cock pieces. The obsidian phallus was large he did say. Yennefer pulls at the towels and offers one to Jaskier. Their fingers are still touching.