[Jaskier's smile is coy. He really must watch his words.] It's a bit early to speak of falling, isn't it?

[Well, mages don't need to watch their words. He can admit it's Istredd's sincerity that makes him such a heart-throb, not his use of them. But what a man lacks in poetics can be more than made up for in heart.

Like not knowing any bards. Oh, that pings him like a lovely little song. Bless his heart. He's clean. Free from far more inferior bards. And apparently Istredd was far too busy doing -- things -- over listening to Valdo Marx at that stupid fucking party that he was not invited to. (And Valdo is dead, anyway, so.)] I could eat. And you're already picking up on my favourite subject. [Himself. Of course.] You know, I was once insulted at the idea you hadn't heard of me. Now I'm more worried at how much in the world you may have missed.

[He offers an arm, entwining them together if Istredd accepts.] What would you like to know first? Early childhood? Beginning of my career? Middle years? I suppose you know most of the "post cross-dimensional kidnapping" era.