[ Iorveth doesn't want to say something to the extent of "making sure I remain informed of events if anything goes drastically wrong in the north while I'm away", because he feels that that would rain on Astarion's sunny parade. The perils of being horrifically in love with someone who should finally learn how to live his own life and find out what he wants from it, while also feeling deeply obligated to an entire group of pointy-eared people.

So. ] Elf politics. [ A soft huff, dry and amused. He cradles Astarion's face again, and leans over to press lips to his forehead. ] Far less interesting to you than a performance at an opera house, I expect.

[ "More of the usual", is what Iorveth means. He has no idea if there are any Aen Seidhe in the area that he can speak to, but there may be one or two in hiding.

Meanwhile, just as importantly: ]

After the last tenday, you deserve to indulge and unwind.