[His head has been bowed, again in respect, showing deference to her presence--but he raises it, both sudden and halting, when she says--] Solomon. Solomon? [His lip curls, and the soft apples of his cheeks are dimpling in a grimace.] Solomon? He's here--he's busy--he works--Diva. That son-- [Of a bitch, of course. But Charles' eyes flick over to the stasis pod, and to the pure white lilies. And to the boy inside.

Paling, he turns his face away from it completely. That means he's not looking at Diva, either. Instead, he's curling into his cloak. You know, now that he's down to one arm, he looks even smaller than before...

He's sullen, his chin tipped low, but he raises his eyes back to her after a tense moment.]

You've been nurtured? You've not been mishandled, I presume? Diva.

[The bat in him is lurking just beneath.]