[ Couldn't you? He allows himself to grimace, which ought to be answer enough. Here, maybe, he can be an elf and a vampire - both are a novelty to most. In his own world, he's just another monster lurking in the shadows. Worse, even - a monster's slave, fodder for bright shining heroes to vanquish before they reach the master.

Gods, now he's just depressing himself. And he's acutely aware that it's making the man on the other side of the table uncomfortable as well. Normally he enjoys making people squirm. Not this time, though. He doesn't mask the way his gaze fixes on Jaskier as he explains his hero's journey. Some months ago the same story would have incurred venomous barbs from Astarion. He's had no patience for heroes. But - ]

I suppose it makes some sort of sense for you to dwell on their fate, then. [ While there's a condescending lilt to his tone at first - he's incapable of saying such a thing otherwise, the way he ends it is strikingly sincere, and a little sad: ] You seem like you have a good heart.

[ It still feels foolish of him to genuinely trust such a thing about anyone, but apparently that's what meeting a string of decent people will do to you when you're temporarily no longer crushed under the heel of a sadist. He sighs, and then a mischievous gleam returns to his eye. ]

I do like the sound of a beheading, though.