"So, this will be my room?" the bedraggled jester asked, his yellow and grey eyes glowing with suspicion.

The count nodded. "Yes. You can decorate it in any way you see fit, Dimentio. Welcome to Castle Bleck."

Count Bleck was reminiscing. He was worried about Dimentio. The jester hadn't shown up to meals for the past couple days, and had seemingly locked himself in his room. The count remembered when he had first brought Dimentio to Castle Bleck. He'd seemed so unsure, even more surprised than Mimi that a complete stranger had taken him into his home.

Though it was Dimentio who had asked it of him, of course. He had been hesitant at first, wary about how this stranger had come to learn of him and his mission. The Dark Prognosticus supplying nothing about a jester. The second time, though, he had decided to allow him to join just because he looked like he really needed to. His clothes had been ragged, and he'd looked pretty thin, as if he didn't get enough to eat. He was confident that the prophecy would carry itself out no matter what, so he had listened to his heart for once.

He had been delighted to see a playful, boyish nature emerge that Dimentio's hard life had not allowed to surface before. There seemed to be something off about him, but he attributed it to his lack of any family to speak of. He never spoke of them if they existed, at least. He wasn't very social, and didn't seem to enjoy idle conversation. In fact, the only person he spent a sizeable amount of time with was Mr. L.

He knocked on the jester's door. "Dimentio? It's Count Bleck. Is something troubling you?" There was no reply from within, but the door was unlocked so he entered anyway. The jester was on his bed, back to the door, legs folded against his chest and his arms around them. He was staring vacantly at the wall, deep in thought.

Count Bleck strode over to him. The masked man didn't so much as look up at him. Cautiously, the count extended a gloved hand and placed it on the jester's shoulder. "Dimentio?"

The jester raised his head and glared at the blue-skinned man. Count Bleck felt the man's muscles tighten and immediately took a step back, unsettled. For a moment, he saw pure hate in that stare, before it was covered by a smile.

"Yes, my count?" the masked man asked in an overly cheerful tone. "What can I do for you?"

The count frowned. "It seems the question should be what Count Bleck can do for you."

Dimentio cocked his head. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Are you unhappy here?" Count Bleck asked, giving the man a no-nonsense look.

Dimentio's smile evaporated. "...Y-Yes, I suppose so..."

The count sat down beside him, taking care not to invade his personal space. "What's wrong?" When no answer was forth coming, his amber eyes widened just a tad. "Was it...something Count Bleck did?"

The slight twitch in the jester's expression told him he was right. "N-No, of course not. I couldn't ask any more of you after you've provided me with all this."

Count Bleck sighed, hanging his head. "You know, I'm trying my very best to do well by all of you, but it's a little silly when you think about it. Why be nice to a select few people when you are murdering all the rest?" He shook his head sadly and looked at Dimentio. "You don't wish to tell me?"

The jester frowned, lips tightening into a sneer. "No. If you don't know what it is, then you need to think about it more. Now, go away and leave me alone." He made a shooing motion and gestured towards the door.

"As you wish." Count Bleck stood with a sigh and walked over to the door, pausing in the doorway and staring out at the hallway. "Don't bottle up your emotions, Dimentio. Whatever you need to do...do it," he said in a low voice, then was gone.

He knew what Dimentio was angry about, and it was something he could never apologize for. The jester had become aware that he had been lied to. Perhaps he had read it in the Dark Prognosticus, or maybe had caught it from the count's words or expressions. Whatever he chose to do about it, Count Bleck would forgive him for it.