[Assumptions isn't exactly the word for it. At least not how Astarion would describe it if pressed— which he supposes he is, now.

His lips thin out for how he flexes them, attention drifting towards the Crystal Grace where it catches little slivers of light. Better to look at while he thinks....and then, once he finally has it, back to Hades yet again (he can't afford not to read his companion's every response, if he's sniffing out half-hidden truths).]

Something's bothering you.

[There. A start. Not a judgmental one, either.]

I don't know if it's me, or this news, or something else you're trying to bury, but as I said before: you can't fool me, darling.

I'm no slouch at this particular game.

[For such a long, long time, it was all he knew.]