"I wouldn't have guessed," Ellis deadpans.

But he is reassured all the same. Nothing about Astarion has given Ellis the impression that he's the type to persevere through great injury.

"You're ready? Have what you need?"

A knife, presumably. All Ellis need do is present himself as bait, and has accordingly shed his breastplate. Does it do anything to paint him as an easy mark? Maybe, maybe not.