The face he makes as she announces him, as her expression goes from fond to excited? Amused? Oh, she was going to mock him for this, he could feel it...and yet he didn't think he would mind overmuch. She grabs his cuff, then his forearm, reaching round their dinner in her delight.
Oh, then she calls him Lordship and he looks like he has swallowed something sour whilst listening to Valdo Marx butcher some poor shanty.
"Lordship?" he repeats, strained and dismissive, grimacing playfully. He takes a drink again and sets his cup aside. He does nothing at all to dislodge her hold of him, nor to prevent her from arranging his arm as she likes.
"Well, since I was born," Jaskier admits. It is not as grand a story as being bequeathed the title, sadly. "My father is the Duke de Lettenhove, and therefore, all of his relatives are, to varying degrees, impressively titled. His only son most of all."
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Oh, then she calls him Lordship and he looks like he has swallowed something sour whilst listening to Valdo Marx butcher some poor shanty.
"Lordship?" he repeats, strained and dismissive, grimacing playfully. He takes a drink again and sets his cup aside. He does nothing at all to dislodge her hold of him, nor to prevent her from arranging his arm as she likes.
"Well, since I was born," Jaskier admits. It is not as grand a story as being bequeathed the title, sadly. "My father is the Duke de Lettenhove, and therefore, all of his relatives are, to varying degrees, impressively titled. His only son most of all."