[ Astarion watches with an odd sense of curious wonder as Gale starts to examine his books, as if each one is a precious commodity all of its own; not something he can particularly understand himself, not when the book he had been reading the most had a singular focus on necromancy. His interest lay with weapons, jewels, fine clothes, the sort of things he might not have been permitted to keep before now and was enjoying the pleasures of once again. Another thing stolen from him by his Master.
As soon as the first book is drawn, Astarion is raising his eyebrows. It's not as if he requires much in the way of history, not of the last few decades, anyway - even if he had been under house arrest, so to speak, more often than not, he was aware enough of the goings on in the world.
That and the book looked sickeningly dull.
Tilting his head, he huffs a short, sharp little laugh at the comparison, waving a hand. ]
Darling, you think me a rake? Should I be flattered or scandalised?
no subject
As soon as the first book is drawn, Astarion is raising his eyebrows. It's not as if he requires much in the way of history, not of the last few decades, anyway - even if he had been under house arrest, so to speak, more often than not, he was aware enough of the goings on in the world.
That and the book looked sickeningly dull.
Tilting his head, he huffs a short, sharp little laugh at the comparison, waving a hand. ]
Darling, you think me a rake? Should I be flattered or scandalised?