"Now, darling, I'm not saying one should wish him ill, neccessarily," Astarion replied with a quick smirk. "But should he hang himself on his own lying tongue, well. Who's fault would that be? Certainly not yours."

Feeling her crowd in unconsciously, Astarion shifted his hold on her, letting his arm drape around her waist, reaching across to take her right hand in his own. "You do rather stand out, darling. I've never met a drow with such unusual markings as yours. I would assume they have some...magical property? A magical brand or tattoo, perhaps?"