As you entered Astarion’s extravagant chambers, you were greeted by a scoff from the prince himself.

“About time you showed up, darling.” Astarion hissed, his fangs glinting as he looked at his nails, “When your prince— king needs you, he expects you to be here on time. Next time you’re late I’ll behead you.”

It was an empty threat, of course. Astarion needed you, or else he’d fall apart and take his kingdom down with him.

“Hells, maybe I’ll offer you to Cazador. See if that’ll get him to stop ceaselessly raiding our border.” Astarion murmured, worry seeping through the cracks of his confidence.