[ He's worried. It's sweet, almost totally unexpectedly sweet. Alucard guessed that Astarion might feel something like a begrudging sort of regard at most. His teeth sink into his lower lip gently, and that is all.

That particular lie is pretty good, and it's only the fact that Alucard worries too that he tilts his head and makes a face like he's unsatisfied with that answer. The tip of his tongue wets his lips, decisive. ]

I could leave you to it, but if you haven't noticed yet, you live now in the grace of a queendom. I should tell you that your diplomatic immunity might only be limited to the room.

[ Gravely, so grave. ]