[Figaro smiles at him; he frowns, reflexively. Instinct. He can't say he hates the idea, actually, far from, there's something about the sheer recklessness that appeals to him, of taking a favor and putting it into Figaro's hands. All for the sake of learning his name.

Gepard knows he should hate it. He really should. It's giving someone he doesn't know too much power, because he'd do his best to live up to it (at least, so long as it doesn't put the safety of Belobog in harm's way) but...

But he licks his lips, instinctively, reflexively, unconsciously.]

I have a condition before I can agree to something like that. Whatever you ask for can't harm Belobog: I can't put my duty before any games we play. [This is not a no. This is the exact opposite of a no. This is a measuring condition, said in a measuring voice. Testing the waters.]

...and wouldn't that mean I'd owe you countless favors if I constantly get it wrong?