[Like all of Geralt's silences, it's the lines between them that must be read. He doesn't say, which means two things: either Yennefer knew and did not care, or she hadn't meant to at all. He must wonder what it means, knowing what both of them would prefer to believe. What is most likely true in the end. And yet how they make absolute arseholes of themselves so easily.

Jaskier releases a breath, his shoulders sagging.

That explains things. Both what the mages were trying to see, perhaps, but also what Geralt was so desperate to protect. What a bizarre thing it is to behold now, after all of those years of Geralt refusing to even hear a word about his Child of Destiny. And even now, without Abraxas, he would still be running. Jaskier would never have met her. She would be a child in a womb; a concept. Barely even a name.

How his heart hurts now to think of a time where he doesn't know her. Without asking Geralt, he knows he feels the same.]

They won't. [Jaskier takes his friend's hand and squeezes it without prompting, looking him in the face.] You protected her, and you did a fine job of it. Through all of that. It's more than anyone else would have tried. I don't think I... [And then he lets him go.] I'll look into spells of the mind, that can protect them. They may be something. Something to safeguard memories.