"Ah, see. Then I know you have little to concern yourself with," he replies. "Love like that doesn't work just one way."

His eyes follow the careful motion, catch on how the words stumble over one another.

"I think you're worrying too much that your mother knows you're not hers," he states, simple and factual. "While she worries because you're not hers."

He leans forward, smiling at the fine scrawl of words across the worn piece of paper - Tristran Thorn - he nods.

"While I just know that they both would be proud of who you have grown to become. Any lady - or star, I am assuming - would be foolish not to agree."