There's a strange feeling creeping up Jeff's spine as he continues his impromptu performance, some niggling sense of wrongness, even as the song comes easily to his voice and his fingers. Even when he isn't casting, even when there's no particular intent in his music, the very act of performing a song tends to invoke a sense of harmony with the Gift. Brings him in tune with it, puts him on the same frequency, brings about this sense of everything being in sync.

He doesn't feel it now. The Gift's still here, of course; it still exists, and nothing can stop that. But it's kind of... fuzzy. Muted. Just a little off, like he can't harmonize with it, no matter how much he puts into his singing, or his playing, and it's just.

Weird.

Wrong.

Unsettling.

The feeling lingers even as he finishes the song, and it's only the sound of polite clapping that brings him back. Jeff blinks a little, seeming to shake off the distraction, and looks at Kirigan with a smile, trying not to let any of that uneasiness show through.

Keep smiling. Fake it til it's real.

"Thanks!" His response is genuine, at least, even if he's a little on edge from his own performance. A beat, then: "I think? That's a good thing, right? I never heard of the Small Palace..."