"Because it seemed really important to you that I come here," he mutters, and takes another bite. The truffles are delicious. Really.

He's not going to be able to finish them tonight. "Perhaps I misjudged that. Eat your damn food. Elea paid for it already; you better not let it go to waste."

Autor looks away and cups his chin in his hand, thinking. He sits, motionless, for a long, long while.

Eventually, he swings his heavy head around to stare at Rabastan again. "Yes. I know everything," he says softly, "both from reading the books and speaking to you in person."

Then he glances away. "And I haven't gone to Mia because you were just as frightened as I was, and I figured we'd settle it all eventually. Or not; sometimes being enemies is easier than being friends."

Autor stares at his hands. "Why do you want to talk to me? To trust me? Haven't I already proven that I'm not worth the effort?"