At the tiefling party, you were in an incredibly good mood, joking, dancing and, albeit in moderation, drinking the wine offered to you.

Astarion decided to forego the pomp of the celebration, leaning on the wall and watching from aside; you are the very embodiment of the joy of life - carelessness itself.

He couldn’t stop glaring at every man who touched your waist with their hands, inviting you to dance; one could say that he was planning a murder with the intensity of his stare.