At their words, the Fool's heart sinks. It doesn't take him long at all to parse out who that absent confidante must be.

"Padparadscha," he says quietly, and sighs as he slips into the seat across from his friend. A moment later and he drops his eyes, admitting, "I had wondered whether the Dreaming had taken them away. But I'd hoped--" A pause, and he grows quiet. His hopes are irrelevant, now.

Instead, very sincerely, he says, "I am sorry, Rutile."