[ Dolores does turn pink when she returns to Astarion in the bath with a slightly-too-baggy shirt and slightly-too-short trousers, and bright cherry red when she offers him a pair of underwear. It's actually rather endearing, to his surprise. He shoots her a wink for her trouble and a if I weren't tied down..., to which she giggles and says, "You rake! My husband is the only one for me."

When he returns to the guest room, Astarion is picking at his ill-fitting shirt and smoothing his damp hair over the bruise in the hopes of hiding it. For someone who can't see his own reflection, he's awfully vain. Once he sees Iorveth with his new feline friends—like a princess out of a fairy tale, he thinks but doesn't say—he grins. ]

You know, I'd thought to ask Dolores for a spare shirt for you, but I rather like this view.

[ His appreciation for the long expanse of Iorveth's tanned torso is almost entirely shallow. He's only a man.

As he tucks the shirt in in an attempt to make it fit better, he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. ]

You look like you've been thinking. [ Gross. ]