Dimentio spent the next day reading in order to keep his mind off the idea of meeting Count Bleck's father. He wasn't sure whether to feel excited, anxious, or scared, so he thought it would be better not to think about it at all. 

He finished the book that afternoon just before dinner, so his timing was perfect. He had a few more days until the next meeting with the little toad whose name he still didn't know, so maybe he could reread a few parts and look for details he didn't notice the first time. Then, by the time the day to meet comes up, he would be better prepared. Maybe he could ask for the kid's name, now that the book was done. Or maybe he didn't have to. Maybe names didn't really matter. 

He gave himself some time to get ready, although most of that time was used to tidy up the cabin - even though nobody would be visiting. He usually kept everything organized daily, but lately, he had been forgetting small things, like making his bed. It didn't really matter all that much because the bed would be messed up the following night anyway, but it felt so much nicer to get into a bed that was made than a messy one. 

He started heading over a little early, just in case the count needed help. The snow was just as thick as the night before, but the wind still seemed to push him toward his destination, so the journey felt short and easy. Besides, Count Bleck's cabin was incredibly close. 

The door was pulled open before he even had a chance to knock. 

"He invited you?" Nastasia asked, raising an eyebrow and adjusting her glasses with her free hand. 

"I know, I was surprised too," Dimentio joked with an eye roll while pushing past her and walking in.

Count Bleck was pacing in front of the cackling fire. Tippi fluttered behind him, which made Dimentio draw back slightly. He almost started wondering how she got there before letting it go and accepting the fact that some things didn't need to be answered. 

"Dimentio's here, love," the butterfly said quietly as the count continued to pace and mutter to himself. He stilled - then looked over at Dimentio, his shoulders relaxing with relief. 

"You're here!" he exclaimed, as if this wasn't just stated by his butterfly wife.

Dimentio bowed, placing his left hand over his stomach. "I'm here," he replied.

"Yeah, why is he here?" Nastasia asked. Something about her tone told the jester that she asked the same question earlier regarding Tippi. 

"Emotional support," Count Bleck answered.

"Right," Nastasia breathed, her tone slightly condescending. Dimentio could see the pain in the way her shoulders sagged, as if she was being told she wasn't enough support on her own. "And who else did you invite?"

"Mr. L," Count Bleck answered. 

Dimentio wasn't sure why the mention of his name made him feel slightly less anxious about the entire event. 

"However, he couldn't come. Says he's got a lot on his mind and needs a mental health day."

The warmth immediately faded, but Dimentio didn't allow himself to be disappointed. After all, it was Mr. L's vacation too. He could use his time however he wanted. 

Dimentio just hoped the man in green's thoughts weren't keeping him too imprisoned. 

Everything had already been set up with Nastasia's help. According to the Count, she arrived three hours early, so everything was taken care of - food, decorations, and emotional support. According to the assistant, there was absolutely no reason Dimentio and Tippi should have been there. And maybe that was true, but the count invited them, so there they were. 

Not long later, there was a brisk knock on the door. 

Count Bleck practically fell over from the jolt that rang throughout his whole body. Both Dimentio and Nastasia had to steady him.

"Hey, it's just your dad," Dimentio assured him. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know," Count Bleck admitted. "I just... I haven't seen him in so long. I want him to be proud, I guess. I suppose that's all I ever wanted."

"He will be," Tippi beamed.

"And if he's not, he's wrong," Nastasia added. "Go get the door, count. It'll be okay. K?"

Dimentio wasn't used to seeing her order the count around. Everyone else, yes, but never him. Count Bleck didn't seem to notice or mind, though. 

He walked up to the door and reached for the handle. His fingertips were hovering just centimeters above for a few short seconds before he grasped it tightly and pulled the door open.

Dimentio wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't the tall, thin man who looked as if he could be blown over by the softest of breezes. He didn't expect the small voice he heard either when the man said "Hey, kiddo."

"Dad," Count Bleck breathed, his voice almost just as small. 

The man's hair was a deep navy blue color. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and had deep, ocean-blue skin. He didn't look like the father of a count, though his facial features looked like almost an exact copy.

He turned his gaze to Tippi and smiled warmly before bowing his head. She giggled and gave him a friendly hello as he invited himself inside, then pulled the count into a warm hug. 

"Hey Dad," Count Bleck repeated with a smile and a quiet laugh. "Sorry, it's been so long. We've just been busy. This is Nastasia, Dimentio, and you remember my wife, Tippi."

"Of course," Count Bleck's father smiled, pulling back and offering everyone a friendly nod. He didn't speak much, as if he was just as anxious as Count Bleck was about the reunion. 

Dimentio awkwardly waved as Nastasia bowed. The jester wasn't sure if bowing would be the appropriate way to greet this man, since he didn't know what his position was, but he did it anyway to follow her example. 

"Oh, please stop," the man said with an awkward laugh. "I don't... uh... really deserve that."

"Nonsense," Nastasia stated. "You raised our count."

"It wasn't hard," he said. "He practically raised himself. I just... I mean... I guess... uh..."

"Oh, relax," Tippi giggled. "You don't need to explain yourself. We have dinner ready if you'd like to have some! You must be starving after your journey!"

"My journey?" he asked.

"Yes," Count Bleck answered, taking his arm and gently bringing him over to the table that had been pre-set. "It must have been quite harsh."

"It must have..." Count Bleck's father echoed, his voice just as small and unsure as before. Dimentio figured that he probably always sounded like this. There was something very mouse-like about him, despite his height. He was somehow even taller than Count Bleck, and that was saying something.  

During dinner, Count Bleck's father tried a little bit of everything, taking small portions. It was a strategic move, Dimentio thought to himself. That way, he could figure out what he liked best without filling up too quickly. 

Tippi spoke to him frequently, as if they were close friends. They must have been, considering the fact that she was his daughter-in-law. Dimentio couldn't find the courage to speak to him, though. It wasn't because he was intimidating - it was more so because he was afraid of BEING intimidating to the stranger. 

"I've missed you," the man breathed, placing his fork down on his plate once everything was finished. "I'm sorry. You must feel terrible. I haven't even tried to visit."

"Neither have I," Count Bleck said. "Don't feel bad. We've both been busy."

"Have we?" the count's father asked, frowning and adjusting his glasses. 

"You have," Nastasia answered. "Count Bleck has told me about the letters you've sent explaining everything you've accomplished."

"Letters?"

"Yes," Count Bleck smiled. "You're working with the Tribe of Ancients, remember? You're the dark magic representative!"

"Dark magic?" the count's father asked, looking off toward the window. He stilled, then slowly nodded and shook his head, smiling slightly. "Right, of course. Sorry, I must have hit my head."

He chuckled, then suddenly became another person. It was as if a switch had been flipped. The social awkwardness vanished and the tension in the room had been lifted. 

After dinner, he asked to go outside since he didn't get snow often where he lived. Dimentio, Nastasia, and Tippi waited on the porch as the count and his father threw snowballs at one another as if playing catch. The way the count laughed was unlike anything Dimentio had ever heard before. It felt so genuine and real.

Afterward, everyone went back in and started making cookies. Apparently, Count Bleck's father knew a secret recipe that everyone else simply had to try. Dimentio felt like he didn't really have any more need for being there, but the Count had requested his presence, so it would have been rude to leave. 

"Careful when putting those in the oven," Count Bleck's father explained as Dimentio opened the oven, seconds away from putting a pan filled with cookies in. "If you get close it can burn your face, and you don't have a mask to protect you."

"I don't?" Dimentio asked, glancing at the count's father and frowning. 

He set the pan down on the counter, then placed a hand on his face. 

It looked like he didn't. But he couldn't recall ever taking it off. He usually kept it on all the time, even when he was sleeping. He didn't even know what he looked like without the mask anymore. How could he not have noticed he wasn't wearing it? 

When was the last time he saw a mirror?

When was the last time he saw his own reflection anywhere? 

"Dimentio, are you alright?" Nastasia asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and jolting him back to reality. 

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes," he quickly answered. "I just... of course. I'll be careful." 

He slid the cookies into the oven and set the timer. 

Everyone gathered in the living room while the cookies were being baked, filling the air with the sweet smell of dough and sugar. They all spoke and laughed. Dimentio joined them, but something deep within him made him feel disconnected from the rest. Like how Count Bleck's father acted at first. 

He turned his gaze to the window as the sun began to set and fill the air with darkness. He couldn't see his reflection, though. 

He saw someone else.

"Hey, Dimentio, we're going back outside before it gets too dark," Count Bleck's voice echoed from behind.

"Okay... I'll be out there in a minute..." Dimentio breathed, keeping his gaze on the window.

He could almost recognize the person he was looking at, but couldn't quite. He wanted to tell himself it was Mr. L, but he knew it wasn't. 

The person silently stared back, then placed his hand on the glass. He wasn't all there, though. It was transparent, like the reflection of a ghost. A sad one, of that. Tears peaked in the corners of the person's eyes, filling Dimentio with a heavy feeling. 

Dimentio wanted to somehow comfort him. Somehow make him stop crying. 

"I'm okay," Dimentio ended up saying. "Please don't cry. I'm okay. I'm happy."

He didn't know if that would help. He wasn't sure why he thought it might. It was okay to be unsure, though. 

The person on the other side of the glass nodded as if he heard, although the fragile look in his glassy eyes told Dimentio that he was not convinced. Dimentio continued to silently watch as the reflection put his forehead on the glass and shut his eyes. 

Dimentio hesitated, then placed his hand over the reflection's hand. Just a few inches of glass had separated them, yet it felt like they were worlds apart. 

"I'm okay," Dimentio repeated. 

The man seemed to nod, then quietly said something that Dimentio couldn't hear. His mouth moved, but no words came out. Or, maybe words did form, but Dimentio was too distanced to hear. There was no point in asking who the man was. There was no way of getting answers. There was no need for answers. 

He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the glass as well. It didn't feel cold like he expected it to. It just felt hard, like a wall made of metal. He kept his eyes closed, trying not to focus on the fog that was going to form on the window from his breath. With his eyes closed, it was like there was no one on the other side. 

But he knew better. He knew what he saw. Someone was there. How long had he been there, he wondered. Was this man always watching him?

"Dimentio!" Count Bleck's voice called out. "Are you coming?!"

The jester blinked and the reflection was gone, replaced with the snowy reality of the outside world. He stepped back, then nodded. 

"Yes," he answered.