Astarion was quick to reach out and flip the book over so that the cover faced down- his schedule being nocturnal now and the Elfsong being his haunt for the time being meant that someone would more than likely notice eventually. Ensuring that it took until he was ready to leave though was preferable given that the tavern was so often visited by adventurers- adventurers unlike his previous companions who could overlook the whole vampire thing. Who would see a monster first and a person never.

Last thing he needed was for someone to see the title, look at him, and connect the dots. And then send word to the nearest cleric with a stake or paladin with a bone to pick with the undead.

That Thrawn had figured it out wasn't too much of a surprise- Astarion had been able to tell that he was the clever sort. That he would be so flippant about revealing that he knew however made the vampire bristle. He lowered his voice to just barely a hiss, "What in the Hells are you doing, bringing that out here?"

He slid the book over on the table, to halfway hide it under his own, keeping his voice low, "Are you trying to announce to any nearby adventurer that they ought to fetch a cleric with a sharp pointy stick to put me back in the ground?!"

Hero that helped save Baldur's Gate didn't mean a thing when one was a vampire. There would always be someone who thought that the only good vampire was a dead one.