[He does, admittedly, feel a little bad for the poor boy. Wincing like that, knowing the lad can't act to save his soul. It's a fair sight different from Astarion's dramatics, and so immediately pained that it's everything Zevlor has in him right now to not sit beside him in earnest sympathy.

Instead he smiles dryly. A small, small gesture.]

On the contrary: I think she believes you're both fighting over her affection.

[Did they foresee that in all their scrapping? No, likely not.]

The rest I wouldn't worry about.

Most everyone on the Moulin Rouge's payroll tends to align more with the slut side of things.