Sylar continued to study her as she spoke, silent, listening. He should have known everything she'd told him, certain that it must have been covered in the history books, but either he couldn't remember it--his memory hadn't been perfect, while he was in school, after all--or his classes had skipped over it. Regardless, however, he figured it was more interesting to hear hear tell it. To know why she was here from her own mouth, that she didn't care whether or not the other courtiers heard her, all of it. And when she finished, he offered her a wan smile of his own, knowing what it was like to want to do things better, and to remind people that you were better, all because someone had said that you couldn't. That you weren't special enough--or, in her case, well-born enough.

"I know the feeling," he admitted, finally. "And I think that's admirable. Most people wouldn't have the courage to go against what their place is supposed to be." He fell into silence again here, eyes dancing over her face as though he was searching for something he just couldn't find, and then, "What changed your mind? What made you know you could be better than them?"

For him, it had been Chandra.