He laughs. He laughs because it’s funny. Because she has him, there, so very set in the span of their game. Sly and shameless and ready to show the sharper gaze of a shark swimming alongside minnows.

What a catch she is.

Or at least— she would be, if she could ever be caught.

But Astarion is a deep believer in letting wild things run free. The ones that remind him of himself, that is.

“I somehow doubt it. But I suppose we’ll just have to see, won’t we?"

Glass of wine now thoroughly finished, he steals the opportunity to discard it by setting it down atop a passing tray of entirely full ones, held aloft by one of the estate servants. So fluid is the offense that it goes entirely unnoticed by all— save for Margaery, who stands right within full view of it. He trusts her not to tattle.

"In the meanwhile, I'd be willing to settle for a dance."