Pelsor lets him speak his piece without interruption, though something in his words about the Nexus denizens has her outer eyes narrowing. Something about their disunity, perhaps. Or hunger. Lexoris stands to one side, the glimmering band of his eye-slit locked on Loki, save for the smallest turn of his head one side to the other, as if tracking something just behind their guest.

It's hard to guess exactly what the Baroness makes of his words; one gets the impression it would still be hard without that mask. On the other hand, there's a sense that were she displeased he'd find out immediately. All things considered, she seems satisfied enough with how he answers for himself.

"Listen, then," she rumbles, "and you shall learn, Loki of Askaar. But there is a price. When our talking is done, when this storm withers, you take my terms to them. To the humans and these others... these House-less. I do not ask you make peace for them. Only... talk."