[ These days, it's rather rare for Astarion to do anything like he is supposed to do - the whole point of throwing away the mantle of being controlled and finding some measure of peace in the man you've become. Something like that - not that he thinks about it terribly often.

Anyway.

Astarion takes the book carefully enough, turning it in his hands before he opens it to the first page to have a quick glance through. He is gentle with it, despite his irritation and the flick of a glare he laid Gale with, careful if all things like nails and errant hair and the like. As much as it might be novel to torment the wizard, he has no reason to be this brutish.

Lifting his head back up, he closes the book with a careful snap. ]

Are you telling me you distrust me, after all we've been through? How heartbreaking.

[ He sounds utterly desolate. In the most sarcastic way possible. ]

I'll read the book and, if I enjoyed it, we can discuss it.