(He rolls his eyes at the mention of Contessa, because ugh, of course there’s a “Contessa of False Comforts,” why not.)

He feels the press of Gaeta’s face atop his head, and sighs with the warmth of it.

“I hope to be worth such limited time,” he murmurs. “I would join you in the pit, if I could. But I expect they will force me to remain in the audience. It would… be far less lonely there, with you.”