Falling into step is easy. Their fingers lace together. The tread of his fine shoes, Gods all around he has new shoes too. This must have been very, very costly. Jaskier was, after all, a popular musician. There were many times now that she had heard his song from another's lips. Toss a Coin is more popular. Her song comes up usually in the lull. None of them can bring any emotion from her so much as the man that penned it. It's...almost distressing how hollow she felt in Kaedwen when a youth belt it out. He was talented, she could say so much. Everyone knew the boy was not the one that wrote it.

"Stage clothes? Jaskier, you are performing! I thought you had said you were going to attend and preen?" He was going to preen anyway so perhaps that was beside the point. "...does this mean you have a new composition?" One that could have been done so much sooner had he not been beaten and attacked.

She still had lingering guilt for not thinking better on their visit to his relatives. Horrible, dreadful people. And it had driven her to be more careful and considerate of her time spent with Jaskier. Five weeks was not terribly long. "I had gone to Vengerberg to settle a few affairs at my homestead. The building still stands. My garden is still in bloom. I've sought to organize my cabinet" She also had been slowly getting rid of the various artifacts and remedies for infertility that would not do her any good. Trying to keep objective was easier sometimes than others. She thought of bright little Isolde, sweet Marta and plucky Tristan. There were items she would hold onto, not for her self anymore but to use for women that came to her. They always do. "Horribly busy work," she injects and idly waves way her own thoughts.

"Oh? How does that even work? Hot water with a touch?" It's meant to be sarcasm but she has no idea.