Octavius endures Byerly's broad grin with admirable forbearance, which at least implies that, all his youthful naïveté aside, he's predisposed to being a good sport about jokes at his expense. Or maybe he's just put up with people needling him far more aggressively and unkindly in the past, and so has built up a bit of a thicker skin to it. Either way, his main response to Byerly's delight at his embarrassment is just to wrinkle his nose back at him in a decidedly 'yeah yeah, fine, I deserve that' sort of way and allow the rest of it to roll off his shoulders.

When the disgusting ropes fall free, he flexes his thin wrists and grimaces at the line of brown... something... left behind on his skin, then fishes a threadbare handkerchief that has seen better days out of his pocket to clean himself off. (If Byerly is well read on matters of Tevinter heraldry, he might notice that it is the Nautia family crest that is monogrammed onto one visible corner of the fabric, rather than the Vedici one. The maternal house of Atticus Vedici's wife, Ophelia.) "Qarinus," he replies, pauses, then gives his head a bit of a 'well, actually' sort of dip as he clarifies, "by way of Nevarra City, anyway. That's where we've been living since--"

He stops himself from going on, and some of the uncomfortable wariness returns to his eyes, though this time, it looks like the source of his wariness isn't Byerly, but the old ferryman. The old man doesn't look like he could be a spy from one of the Venatori-aligned Tevinter houses, but then again, isn't that exactly the kind of person you'd choose as a spy?

He uncomfortably considers the man's back, then looks trustingly towards Byerly again. he's imprinted on you like a duckling, congratulations "It's a long story and not a very interesting one," he lies. Badly.