Benedict looks from Byerly back to Nicola, silently working to piece together what exactly is going on here and, as one might predict, coming up short. It’s with genuine indignant surprise that he meets the latter’s eyes again, on the subject of some dead governor or another—- why would he have anything to do with that? Why would his father, for that matter?

“…sorry?” His inclination is to scoff, roll his eyes toward Byerly. Who’s this weirdo?