I don't know who would have placed it. I can hardly think that anyone who I knew in the city before I died would have cared so much as to make a gesture like this.

[He gestures flippantly towards the flower, like its very existence offends him. His eyes flick back towards the headstone, the letters carved there are chipped and faded, but still legible. For a moment they grab Astarion's attention, rooting his gaze to them as the crease between his brows deepens.]

It—the only other ones who could have...

[His voice trails off as he reaches up to trace the Thorass lettering. 'Ancunín.']