She's meant to kill him, then, if he is the one getting undressed while she stays there, watching him. His upper half was unveiled with a quickness, but now, with her unnatural crimson gaze on him, his fingers tug at the ribbon carefully holding his trousers together at the groin, which he pulls with marked slowness now.

It may as well be a show until she tells him otherwise.

Jaskier shivers. His heart quickens with an insistence that he is being considered as dinner. A feeling which he lovingly embraces.

"And what does the vampire want?" His trousers loosen, but don't fall, snagged on the edge of a hip. "Or shall I beg first?"