"If you wanted me to, yes."

For the briefest of moments, the Fool's smile seems to falter; a bit of the light flickers in his gaze. Devin can't know what that small qualifier means. Though perhaps he will, sooner rather than later.

He lets his fingers curl against Devin's cheek, silent for a moment longer. Then his smile warms and a glimmer of his cheeky humour kindles itself in his eyes again.

"Beloved," he says. "That is what my mother called me, when I was a child."