[This time Jaskier looks at him with real amusement; soft around the edges, much more muted than it had been years ago, but it reaches his eyes. Jaskier is all for affirmations, but sometimes they are unnecessary. Yet Geralt's words were so achingly sincere.

Geralt's hand warm on his arm, he reaches over with the other.

Flicking the end of his nose.]

I know that, you fool. She's said as much herself. [He could add that, unlike some people, she is much more obvious with it. Yet it is not entirely true. He likes to think Geralt's affections show just as clearly, but said in a different language. One the bard has long become fluent in.] I will keep her safe, in the ways I can.

[Let's try something else, shall we? The roll of that voice through the dark.]

And you. Both of which, I think, can also go without needing to be said.