[ A beat, as Iorveth takes a moment to realign himself on the floor. Perpendicular this time, legs folded, facing Astarion more properly. When he opens his mouth to speak, he knows that his opening statement won't be particularly pleasant to hear. ]

At the time, I believed you did. You tried to ingratiate me to you without warmth or sincerity.

[ Which felt insulting, and yes, self-effacing. Hardly something to lie about. ]

But I didn't know then what I know now. [ The why-s, the still-nebulous how-s. It's not that Iorveth wants Astarion to relive the specifics of his past to make a case for himself (no one is owed Astarion's anything), but: ] Do you think I would think less of you?