[ "Iorveth might scold me if I don't tell him," Astarion thinks; meanwhile, Iorveth hears "teeny-tiny possibility" and immediately assumes that Henrik is, in fact, still alive. He loves Astarion, but that doesn't mean that he thinks Astarion capable of executing a plan flawlessly in the absence of help. Iorveth, still the rudest wood elf in all of Faerûn. ]

So he's alive, then.

[ Flatly, another symbolic blunt-force instrument to Astarion's head. He isn't angry so much as he's critical of Astarion's methods, which is likely absurd given that the main issue here should be "hey, don't kill a man," and not "hey, why weren't you better at killing a man".

Iorveth withdraws his hand, and folds his arms across his chest. ]

A trifling matter for me, [ as he's entirely used to being hunted for sport, ] but not for you.

I doubt you want the title of "terrorist co-conspirator".