Orym reaches up to set a hand against the bard's cheek, to urge him to look back to him. He waits until Dorian meets his gaze once more before he shakes his head. "No way. We love you as the real you, the you we know. I love you, Dorian Storm. I especially like when you're happy, and you never seem happy like this."

Dorian deserves to be who he wants to be, not who he thinks he should be. And Orym means it. They all care about him, Bell's Hells, the Crown Keepers.