[ Father. He still hasn't met Arlecchino, never did find a way to have that cup of tea with her. Any urgent need for it is done and over with by now, but he does wonder what insights she could give him about her darling Lyney that the boy won't forfeit himself. Or that the boy can't see for himself: we are often our own biggest blind spots, after all. ]

Oh? The same Father who sent you and your siblings here with no contingency plan to speak of?

[ His curiosities for her aside, he does have that small criticism to offer. How can he not? She sent children down to this place, then left them entirely at his mercy. Either she trusts him a great deal for a total stranger, or this kindness of hers only goes so far. ]

If I had been the cruel villain you'd pictured me as at the time, what would she have done? You weren't making any concessions back then, and Lynette was entirely in my hands. [ He doesn't mean to challenge Lyney, but he does know the topic is bound to be a contentious one. He softens his tone just a touch, keeps his manner easy. Don't turn this isn't a fight when it doesn't have to be one. ] ...Genuinely. You know her better than I do. From where I stand, I've never been able to figure out that Father of yours.