"Yes ma'am," he said, a faint smile tried to creep its way to his face. But in the spirit of his broken teenaged seeking help attitude it didn't quite make it. The Carnival wasn't just a cover for the madness of Mr. Dark and his people. No indeed, the Carnival was Dark's life and he was a performer. Forever and always. And a damned good one at that. He stepped away from Morgana instinctively, as any terrified teenager might, and stuffed his hands into his pockets nervously, not quite making eye contact with her.
"Did I go miss--oh, yes.. Katherine," he hedged, looking just above Morgana's shoulder so he wasn't making eye contact but neither looking away. "She asked me to come back, so I did. I didn't want to upset her more." He shrugged thinly.
"What were you doing?" Manipulating people was easy. Give them an inch to talk about themselves and they would become your best friend. Give Dark an inch to get you to talk about yourself and you were his. People were so remarkably stupid. The fools.