"There is," he agreed coyly, nearly tasting the unspoken words she hid behind elegant lips. Curious as he was he found no polite way to pry, and besides, he wasn't even sure if she was just being a bit hesitant and always this awkward when speaking, or if she was truly weighing every word as heavily as it seemed. And if she did not speak all of her mind, neither would he just give her the story she nearly asked for; after all, was he not one to play with others, harmless as it is, though? She bowed, and he hid the grimace threatening to break through. Mauja did not appreciate an excessive use of his title, nor excessive, flourishing shows of 'respect'. Bowing took no more than lowering your head, whichever ways you added eloquence mattered not. Respect did not come from a bow. Respect came from knowing, seeing, evaluating and finding worthy: respect came with time and great deeds. This King preferred honesty and openness, and those who looked him in the eye. Perhaps she would learn. Some did. Aurelius had. There was hope, and he was not one to encourage this behavior, so perhaps in time they would get it. Still, he was far too polite to correct others on how they behaved, since they probably though that they were being polite. That he was the odd one out was hardly their fault.

And oh boy, she really was adamant about this unicorn thing. "Yes," he simply said, not seeing the need to elaborate further. Had Faelene not told her? Maybe not. Not all knew. Some knew but not why. It wasn't in Mauja's best interest to let everyone know the plans he harbored. And so he merely smiled, a grimace which turned to cold stone the next time she opened her mouth. Eyes that had danced with remnants of sun's warmth turned to glacial ice, a clear shift in his demeanor which indicated she trod on very, very thin ice. He did, however, not interrupt. He needed to know what the rumors said. What they knew of the Plague. Of course, a few no-name victims had fallen, newcomers no one would miss. But on the other hand, d'Artagnan had tried to offer his services to the Foothills, with little success.

Oh, well. Their loss - for now.

Silence was her only answer for a while, something heavy and cold to it, but Faelene filled in. Clever. "There is truth even in lies," he murmured, weighing the situation. It would be good to know where Faelene stood on the matter... but what if Tillas was nothing more than a spy? He allowed his gaze to remain unchanged, even though he could not trust her - yet. The fact that she knew something bothered him. "Where did you hear this rumor, hm? How many conclusions did you jump to yourself?" If it was sort of - widespread... then damn, they had a leak. If it was just wild speculation - which he sincerely hoped it was - then they were safe. Who wouldn't gossip and create tales about dark brotherhoods in the depths of ancient, mysterious forest, when its current herd consisted only of unicorns, and the King itself looked like something from a fairytale? With all the accusations already being thrown about by a certain Foothills herd, it was no wonder if such tales had sprung up.