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"So, Sage," Astarion says, emphasising their name in a way that almost screams mischief, "I hate to pry but I am terribly curious."
Sage snorts. "You only hate other people prying into your business, not the other way around."
Astarion shrugs, unrepentant. "Fair enough. So, tell me, darling, did your parents actually give you that name or did you pick it out yourself?"
Oh. Sage looks up. Everyone else is now also paying attention. Oh, this will be fun. For them. Not for the others. Because that's what you get for prying.
They shrug. "Neither. I dunno what my parents named me. A girl at the... "orphanage" I stayed at for a while gave me my name." They stand up, stretching their arms over their head. Making it obvious that they're tired and about to go to sleep. "Her ma used to burn sage to make herself feel better. The owner of the place had a similar habit."
They turn away before their words fully sink in. They don't need to see the others' faces.
"Aw, that's-" Karlach starts. Stops. "Hold on. Do you mean..."
Sage starts walking towards their bedroll.
"What the fuck?!"
"Goodnight," Sage calls over their shoulder. No need to hide their grim smile when no one can see it.
They can feel it pulling at the burn scar stretching across their face.