"You shouldn't slight my affection." There was an element of poise to him now that had been woefully lacking for most of the last day. The raven certainly thought that had come out of the glamour changed. She did as well, to a degree, but he, feeling what he felt, thinking what he thought, knowing what he knew? He was less sure it was as simple as that. Now his eyes sparkled but the rest of him convalesced into something more focused by far. The blue made his usually dull features just that much more striking but the unkempt nature of his garb: the missing ribbon, the dust that she had not entirely removed, added a certain worn-in tint that matched the rest of him quite well.
It wasn't just certainty; it was Belief. Convincing her to feel the same wasn't the dynamic at play. He was already convinced. Now it was just a matter of contorting reality to what he already knew. The glamourie of man. His smile very much resonated with her shoulders. "I've been in places that were beyond my imagination. I know how that feels. I know how it feels to not have the very things that I require to function: light, language, the use of my facilities. There's no shame in that, not even in the carriage. The shame is mine for, last night, the lack of understanding was mine as well." Warmth exploded out from him, no matter how hard he tried to contain it. He moved a bit close. His eyes and his smile were in a tight competition for which could brighten the slightest while meaning the most. "This is what I do, Finn. I figure out what I don't understand, what scares me, troubles me, leaves me at a loss, and I try to understand it. Maybe I don't fully understand tears yet, but much of what we have wrought have rational and reasonable, scientific, underpinnings. I can help you understand them all and feel more secure with them. I can't fix iron but I can help you understand the process through which it is forged and how we make use of it."
That was common ground, or at least it was in his mind. The ghosts, ghouls, and monsters of the unknown he found lurking upon his arrival to Myrken were not so different from the cities and industry that mankind had created in their absence, not if you squinted and looked at it all askew, and no one was better at that than Glenn Burnie. His demeanor had been warm but not wild, and now it receded to some higher level of professionalism once more. "As for the rest, I respectfully feel that you are going about it backwards. First, you can't just start with the king in Razasan. There are endless layers of advisers around him. Whatever deal you might obtain would be unfavorable. Things are too calcified here. They're too used to wringing out every advantage. They also need less and would be more negatively impacted by change."
This was a dance all its own, all his own. It was very much what had been unveiled the night before, what she had helped to set loose upon the world once again. The affection was no less true. He cared. That was half the danger of it all. "Second," his feet were rooted. Occasionally he'd punctuate a point with a hand motion or another (such as making a fist as he mentioned their calcification), but there was no rocking or swaying or fidgeting and even little of such physical punctuation. It was all in his eyes, his tone, his words. "Myrken's ideal for the same reason. They don't have to offer mighty wonders or weapons. They don't have to receive dread magics. It's just the foundation, just the proof that there are things here worth seeing, that people have done good as well as ill with their ingenuity and craft. An arrangement will be easy. You'll likely have the advantage in the negotiation because they'll have no idea the worth of what they're giving you. Moreover, they have much more of a need. There'll be a level of access that you couldn't have here. As you said, there's a large portion of your advantage three months north, no?" Yes, the people were the people, but they were such for a reason. "They're superstitious but it's because they've encountered so much and because so much has tried to hurt them. They understand barter and opportunity though. They'd welcome someone trying to deal with them properly instead of," stealing their children, "trying to raise their late uncle as part of an undead horde."
All of that led to the real kicker, and here, he actually drew back a bit, showing if not deference then a subtle admittance of own ignorance (showing but not saying, because there were limits). "Starting small means that it'll be easier for you to ask for forgiveness instead of permission, right? You're not looking for a grand accord, not yet at least. You're just going to engage in some light trading between friendly parties. The idea is that you come back with something to show the other queens, the other clans, just enough to show them the worth of all of this, proof. By doing so, however," and he couldn't help himself. He stepped back in, a little bit of excitement entering his voice. It'd been so long since he had done any of this, "and to show them that you're the one with the edge now, with this advantage that they don't have. New technology, new goods, new ideas. You have the local knowledge, the cultural mastery, the connections. If they want a piece of it, then they have to agree to your terms. You'll be innocent about it, of course, just bringing it back to show so that broader deliberations can happen, but you'll have the game won from the start."
There it was then: three points for her to get what she wanted. Start small. Start in Myrken. Start without permission. He held his hands out to his side, palms up, exposing his core to her. If he was trying to backstab her, he was being particularly gracious about it.