[He laughs softly, but it isn't directed at Astarion. His offers are sweet, but his disbelief is, well, appropriate, and all the more so when directed towards a duke of his power. Vakares should be asking for something, shouldn't he? He sticks out all the more if he doesn't, but then again, that's always been his way.]

Mm, well, not a dance. I have two left feet.

[He doesn't, honestly, do all that poorly in dancing, but being able to perform the moves is far different than enjoying it.]

Call it a gift, with no expected strings attached. I doubt you'll find a rarer prize in these halls, but I have no desire to barter for such information. You would find it out sooner or later regardless; it's hardly a secret.

[But . . . hmm, and he cocks his head, regarding Astarion warmly. There's no small amount of interest there, flattered and quietly thrilled by the slow drag of scarlet eyes— but nor does he reach for the elf just yet. He is confident in himself, Duke Vakares, but self-confidence does not always mean having the courage to flirt.]

But with that said, you have your prize. I would not say no to continuing our conversation, but not as an extension of that. Stay if you wish, or don't.

I certainly wouldn't mind the company.