[ He may be growing used to the many subtle shapes of her frowns, just like Geralt's; she may be quicker to smile and laugh than the Witcher is, but she's just as quick to scowl, as well.

Right now, she looks thoughtful, focused -- and a little nervous. Jaskiers lower-level demonstration is hardly met with applause or awe, but it's clear she's paying attention. The problem is, she at once has no idea how he did it and knows, the concepts and theories and practice Yennefer had led her through rigorously when she'd been a child rising back up from her memories. They have a lot of other, far worse memories to get through first before they can be truly heard.

Jaskier's question earns him a faintly different quirk of her lips. They press together thinly, brows drawn. ]

I know what art is, even if I do not draw or paint. That's a very broad question.

[ Then, she realizes she sounds defensive for no real reason, that Jaskier has come out here for her sake, and takes a breath. Tries again, softening the edges in her voice. ]

...but, very well. I think I understand what you are asking.

[ She thinks about it more honestly for a moment before answering again. ]

Swordwork. A master smith forging a blade worth a ballad. The way it moves, an extension of the body. Like a dance.

[ Beautiful as it is dangerous. There's something artful in that, isn't there? ]

...don't laugh.