Oh, don't be cross, Jaskier. I never said I didn't like it. [ Ciri's laugh is gentler this time, her tone soothing. Coaxing this ridiculous man out of his unnecessary dramatics like she's done this before. She still doesn't look over, concentrating on her stirring until the milk is the right color and consistency. ]

Isn't the metaphor that I am the sword? [ See. She knows what a metaphor is! Ciri licks the spoon, tentatively testing it-- Then pulls a face and adds more sugar. ]

I told you. I'm making something. [ Hmm. The next lick is better. Ciri waves him over. ]

Nadine showed me. It's called chocolate. This one is hot.

Hot chocolate.

I'm sure you've never tasted anything like it. Bring the mugs closer. I think it's ready.