[ The cuff clinks on the floor, and Astarion doesn't give a single thought to Dolores. This is probably the most excitement this cuff has ever seen; really, she should be thankful he took it on such an adventure. He rolls his eyes at Iorveth—the ego!—and gets to work on the buttons of his shirt. There aren't many to contend with, considering how low it cuts. ]

Don't you think highly of yourself?

[ Still theater. The only thing Iorveth has to do to make him feel boneless is hold his hand.

He finishes undoing the final button and pushes the soft fabric over Iorveth's shoulders. It's a bit sad to see it go, but he can tolerate it if it means more warm skin for him to brush up against. ]

You know, the last time we came to a bathhouse, you turned me down. [ And made him feel bad about himself in the process, albeit unintentionally. Iorveth, with the dignity not to have sex with whoever seemed advantageous to throw himself at. It had been difficult not to compare himself. ] How the mighty have fallen.