[Ever the diligent host, even in his own home, Jaskier lifts a pitcher and refills her drink for her. Of course he had the foresight to bring extra, if she's really meant to soak.

He doesn't mind. The soaps smell heavenly, and there's a sense of ease from their being there. A feeling of home.

Jaskier sets a hand on her arm.]

You know we'll protect you from anything we can. Even a giant, ridiculous rock. [It's a ridiculous notion. What is Jaskier going to do? The most he can do is... research. Or learn better magic. But he's still no sorcerer. He's a bard.] Perhaps its intent is not a negative one. A fruitless hope, maybe, but... it is fair that if it wants something from us, from you, you will have some leg up on it.