[Between Diarmuid and himself, Dorian should be brought back down to heel. That just leaves one other matter that's bothering him... well, not quite bothering, but he should address it anyway.]

Diarmuid. Cherished Knight.

[His tone softens. Loses that prickly, near paranoid edge, and he lifts the locket so that the man can see his face. It's kind.]

You know I've no issue if you take others to your bed. Your lovers are your own; mine are mine to share. I would not forbid nor restrain you in this way.