Of course, [ Astarion says, all smiles, as he settles back to wait for Molly to pull the next card. His eyes move to the tiefling's hands, observing intently for any palmed cards or concealed passes—less out of any real interest to expose Molly and more out of a kind of professional curiosity—but when the next card is pulled, it really does look like a genuinely random take. Astarion watches with interest as the card is laid out on the table—and can't help but laugh in surprise when he sees that Molly himself features in this one. ]

My, my. Did you make these yourself? [ His tone is still teasing, but there's a note of admiration there as well. That's a level of detail most people wouldn't bother with. Astarion is genuinely impressed. Though, he's about to say, he certainly wouldn't call himself a soldier, at any point in his life—

And then Molly keeps talking. It's all still drivel, of course. The reading could apply to anyone; for who hasn't been made to play one role or another in this life? Yet, there's a glint of something in Astarion's eyes at that first word—authority—a flash where the smile on his face looks more like a grimace.

He recovers quickly, but his voice isn't quite as mirthful as before. ]

On the contrary, I've never been freer. [ A smile, hard-edged. ] But don't let that discourage you, darling. Let's see what the future holds, shall we?