[ What are the chances he would stumble upon Urianger at this exact moment, one of two people in this world that have seen him at his most monstrous? To Urianger's credit, he hadn't shied away from the bloody scene, rather he seemed curious - and in the moment Astarion hadn't taken offense to his questions, where otherwise he might've been annoyed.

Astarion gives a short flourish of a bow when he's addressed as Ser Knight, but he dispenses with any other trappings of their usual game, fixing on the offer at hand -

He is curious what the young elf might taste of... and that pain in his gut pulses in agreement.

What's the harm? ]

They do, don't they? [ He gives the revelers under the tent a pointed look. ] I suppose many of them find pleasure in pain, to a degree. [ There's almost something slightly judgmental in his tone, easy enough to miss, but it leaves his gaze when he sets it upon Urianger again. He noticed the hesitation, and so he repeats himself with a practiced sultry look. ]

Let me sate your curiosity, my dear prince.

[ He offers a hand. ] Shall we find somewhere more private?