*takes a lengthy sip of his tea and avoids meeting your eyes while he tries to process; you're an educated man, a friend, and you've never evinced the slightest sign of mental illness, but do you have any idea how many of his Delusional Nutjob buttons you're pressing? (never mind how many he's pressed, himself)*
*finally, with utmost calm* All right. You were a king of Númenor. Apparently there was family trouble. And you were and may still be clairvoyant—precognitive, really, to some degree. *glances past you* I take it Miss Stewart is the very same daughter?