Oh. [Jaskier looks up, rubbing an eye, from where he's been mostly staring at Alucard's chest. As he drinks, his eyes simply tend to move downwards to more savory things... completely out of his control.] I didn't realize we were fighting.

[Like a pair of slightly wet cats, perhaps.

He swallows a little heavily, attempting to not choke.] I recall. Glimpses. [Bringing up the father thing is not fair, as otherwise Jaskier would've insisted it makes far more sense to rest and recover in a bed over a coffin, but who he is to judge?

It's more that the reminder is a harsh one. Jaskier's knowledge of said father is short, brief, and violent.

Jaskier gives him a soft, drunk pat on the chest.] Worry not. Though I may have fun with you, I care neither if you hate boats or sleep in a coffin. You are my friend, through and through, and lovely.

[Yes, he's reached that level of wine. He has not been holding back. Maybe it's time to go back to his room...]