To her happiness, he says nothing, turning his head away to avoid overtly showing any hint of pride. Instead he works for haughtiness— as though this place is beneath the both of them— though it's a touch tamer than it otherwise could be, if he intended to truly make himself petty.

It is, after all, a suitable enough place to feed.

"Mmm? Oh, passable I suppose." He thumbs through listed offerings, attention meandering. "Some of them are competent enough to inspire a certain sense of security."

Some, of course. Not all.