I know. [He already snaps it at the sound of his name. And how once that so did dig into his nerves, Geralt saying his name like one would the name of a misbehaving child. An annoyance. A distraction.

A terrible travel companion.

He is not the same bard he was as a young man. Gods, he has been through so fucking much. He has done so much. And yet these tiny things eat away at him like ants, munching at anything they can get their jaws wrapped around.] It's not about that. Geralt, have you ever considered I don't wish for you to suffer? Even an idle annoyance -- as you would think of a prison sentence?

[Jaskier drags his fingertips across the water, swirling it, watching him.] I am thankful you protected Nadine. And I'm sure she is, as well. But I wish you would consider yourself worth saving sometimes, too. Even if your full sentence is smelling like someone else's body odor after a day of meditation.