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She recovers just as quickly, fingers gripping the armrests, the shock in her eyes replaced with steel.
"How much do you know?" and now there is no doubt about it being a demand, the cold, sharp tone promising unpleasant things in your future if she does not receive a prompt answer.
"About the specifics? Nothing at all," you shrug. "All I had was an educated guess - which your reaction just confirmed."
"Explain," not even a demand anymore - an order.
"You traveled to Nowhere, Marchioness. You survived the sandstorm and you asked the Nomad your question, knowing that to hear its answer would mean agreeing to become a pawn in Fate's endless game. An endeavor undertaken only by the insane and the desperate. And you don't strike me as insane, Marchioness."
There's no mistaking a guilty look.
"Then there's the fact I live on Barter. Which may seem like - and indeed it is - a provincial trade station, interesting only due to its unorthodox construction, but believe me when I say that a lot of money passes through here. And where money flows so does, inevitably, information. So even a simple electrician like myself has heard the recent rumors about House Maevian. How their properties have become financially radioactive in recent years, and how anyone with stock or investments in them is advised to sell it all off, even at a loss. Because House Maevian has fallen out of favor with Emperor Vrindicarios and faces its end."
The Noble simply stares at you, her mouth a thin line, her knuckles white from how hard she's gripping the armrest.
"Then there's the Emperor himself. Now, it's easy to see him as just a mountain of red scales and bad temperament. the embodiment of Destruction. But you don't remain in power for as long as he has without a certain level of cunning as well. And what do you get if you combine destruction and cunning? Sadism," you smile humorlessly. "If you do something to displease Vrindi, he won't simply kill you, no. He will let you know your life is forfeit, but then 'graciously' present a sliver of hope: some nigh-impossible task for you to accomplish in order to earn his mercy. And I reckon that's exactly what happened to House Maevian. And to return to what I said about desperation earlier... the time limit he has set is starting to run out."
You don't even wait for a confirmation.
"And finally, there's Maia Taris and her life's one notable achievement, unknown to the galaxy though it may be. The reason you came here seeking her. And also the reason I will refuse your offer, no matter the money or favors you offer me," you lean forward slightly, giving the Marchioness the most somber look you can muster. "I may not know what Emperor Vrindicarios told House Maevian to find in the Shattered Expanse but neither does it matter to me. Fourteen years, five months, and three days: that's how long Maia Taris spent trapped in that accursed place. And I will go to <span class="mu-i">war</span> to avoid being sent there for a day more."
(cont)
