Astarion gets far more than he bargained for with his specific choice of dinner tonight.

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Page 1:

Castina: My blood isn't exactly yours to just take without asking, Astarion.

Astarion: I had no other choice. Everyone else's blood either smells horrid or rancid.

Castina: In any case, my blood's a very poor choice.

Astarion: Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I'll be well, you'll be fine, and everything can go back to normal.

Castina: Not one drop more than you need. Or I'll stake you where you stand, got it?

Castina: No- Stop! Something's wrong! Astarion, STOP!

Astarion: Tch...! The hells is wrong with your blood?

Castina: Oh... Shit. Okay. Astarion. Do NOT freak out.

Page 2:

Astarion: What the-- But why though?

Astarion: That is the exact bloody thing--

Astarion: The EXACT godsdamn thing you say to somebody when you KNOW they're about to freak out!

Astarion: Oh... Well. Shit indeed.

Karlach: "Hey, is everything okay? We heard shouting! Do you need help killing Astarion?