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[ Ciri can't hold that face for long. The wide-eyed simpering expression cracks into a far more normal-looking smile, a warmth in her voice. ]

Oh, all right. I believe you.

If you can be the most appreciated poet and musician on one Continent, why not on two?

[ Jaskier has earned his appeasement. And Ciri has nearly finished her bread.

Setting the rest of it down on the table, Ciri at last picks up the letter, dropping into a chair to begin unfolding it.

Her name is written on the front. There's something about the handwriting that looks a little familiar, like she should recognize it.

It is not sealed, merely folded into the envelope, so Ciri easily pulls out the letter, opens it, and begins to read.

As it turns out, the note is not, in fact from one of her customers. In the worst possible way, it is Jaskier who was closer to the mark. ]