Do you? [Of course, he has seen the level of enthusiasm in which she approaches sweet buns, which is only equal to his own, so perhaps that makes perfect sense in the end. It's simply nice to have someone around who appreciates the finer things. Jaskier can live off of rabbit stew the rest of his life, but he would suffer heavily without the inclusion of the most frivolous of foods. And drinks.] Then cake we shall have, my dear.
[He will hold onto that. That almost-laugh, the smile she gives him. It is not unburdened, by any means, but it is better than her anger, her detachment, and worst of all, the sadness. His heart breaks for her -- perhaps it breaks for himself, even, as it struggles to hold both of them up together.
He scoops her cut apples into a bowl, pushing it towards her with a bag of sugar. If she is to help, she will have hands as messy as his own. For once, sticky with something that isn't ichor or blood.] There is not a chance you'll ever beat me, princess.
wrap it up here? :>
[He will hold onto that. That almost-laugh, the smile she gives him. It is not unburdened, by any means, but it is better than her anger, her detachment, and worst of all, the sadness. His heart breaks for her -- perhaps it breaks for himself, even, as it struggles to hold both of them up together.
He scoops her cut apples into a bowl, pushing it towards her with a bag of sugar. If she is to help, she will have hands as messy as his own. For once, sticky with something that isn't ichor or blood.] There is not a chance you'll ever beat me, princess.