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You struggle mightily to let none of your frustrations nor fears show on your face. Remaining in the room seems to have been a mistake, through and through. You cannot even assuage yourself with the snack, which is still nowhere to be seen. Did he have to send to the kitchens for it? You thought everything was here in the room, on the services that line the walls. If you had known - no, damn it, stop dwelling on food. There are much more imminent issues here. Namely, these two lines of conversation. Both of them have strayed into dangerous territory with alarming alacrity. You are being asked questions about Wilhelmina that you haven't even really decided the answers to. Certainly, there is a notion that Wilhelmina Dremen should come from the Northern Core, as Captain Dremen did ... but that is the sum total of thought you have given the matter. What if he asks what province, what city? What if he has traveled there? He is a Journeyman, after all. Or Hell, what if you bungle things up, say that you are from the Northern Core and then name a city in the Old Hinterlands instead - it has been more than eight years since you made the Crossing, after all, you might have gotten some places confused. There really just isn't any good, <span class="mu-i">safe</span> way to answer this man; as impolite as it may be - and as undermining as it might be to your desired image of a well-heeled, well-reared woman - you are going to have to ... well, just ignore the man. In that case, then your best bet to justify, or at least explain away your breaking of etiquette that is so fundamental that even you recognize it as 'rude', would be to just turn the sum of your attention to Sulphreme.
You won't say anything, of course, but perhaps if you just stare at the man as you are right now, he'll be so uncomfortable that he won't say anything either. Or at the very least, he won't say anything that would -
"Ah, well, I ..."
Already seemingly at a loss for words, he completely falters when he belatedly notices that you are staring at him intently. Presumably to buy himself some time, he quaffs his drink, presumably torn between the two honorable paths forward - truth, or discretion. Damn it; he's definitely going to have to say <span class="mu-i">something</span> now ... though admittedly, the hope that he would remain silent when asked a direct, perfectly reasonable question by his friend was not so much vain as it was just ... inexplicable. While you may have plucked the fuse from the 'peter-pomegranate to your left, the one to your right looks ready to go off in a matter of moments. Should you answer the question in his place? And if you should, how should you answer it? How would the Taker take you saying something that he knows to be a lie? Oh, Pattern's Perdition, you need to be careful, very careful here ...
