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"There was once a mage so pretty and vile that she spat acid wherever she walked," Jaskier sings soulfully. "And that pretty and vile mage happened across an incredibly well-dressed and handsome and talented bard with a voice like silk—"
"And she cut his throat out for daring to be out of tune," Yennefer smiles wickedly.
Jaskier clears his throat, his fingers missing the strum of the string. "Not quite, my dearest Yennefer. If anything, well… This, uh, incredibly well-dressed and handsome and talented bard with a voice like silk worshipped her like the queen that she was and is," he clears his throat again and begins to speak quickly, "and they both lived happily ever after and no one was killed or maimed or in danger of such a thing."