[ Beloved. Oh, he does like to hear that. After Cazador and Godey's cruel names—'worm' if he was in trouble, 'boy' if he wasn't—and the shallow, appearance-focused pet names from his various marks, it makes him feel warm inside to be someone's beloved thing, a cherished person. He squeezes Iorveth's hand with one of his while wrapping the other around his arm, clinging to him in a way that's pathetically, overtly affectionate.

As they approach the gate, the mansion looming in the distance, he wonders if its inhabitants ever had dealings with Cazador. Probably; he had his fingers in nearly every important pie in the city. ]

We'll need to work on your distraction skills, [ he says, peering up at the enchanted sconces of Continual Flame glowing warmly against the facade. ] Luckily for you, you can practice seducing me as much as you need.