“Don’t mention it,” Astarion says, the words light as silk— though the look he fixes Ellis with out of the corner of his eye is too focused, too unblinking. It’s punctuation for what might otherwise be interpreted as a joke.

Astarion, after all, doesn’t care to be known for traits like mercy or compassion. It tarnishes. Troubles.

And he has enough trouble as it is.

“Ever.”

They’re even now, the both of them. They can leave it at that.