[ The line on his forehead softens slightly, and not only because he's reminded of the possibility of getting wrinkles. Iorveth is very sweet, and the corners of his mouth lift up into a faint but unmistakable smile, if only for a moment. ]

What a gentleman you are.

[ It won't be the sort of drink he'd really like to have, but he'll have to tide himself over until he can indulge in privacy. Wine will have to do. He gravitates toward one of the display cases where an ornate glass bottle sits, filled to the brim with a swirling violet liquid. The card in front of the display case reads Purple Worm Poison. ]

Fetch yourself a drink, too. I suspect you'll need one to make it through any socializing.