"Suppose I'll have to earn my keep," with a smile, as if there had been any possibility that he'd do anything but. And as for morale, "See how well your morale is boosted when the mongrel's snores are keeping you up." (Max whines, and Herc laughs and rumples Max's neck, which seems enough to get a lopsided and particularly canine sort of grin.)

Still, now they are both standing once more, Hercules releases her hand, and chuckles quietly. This whole dance has been pretty unnecessary, hasn't it? It was nice to have his knife back, certainly, but he'd like to think he's not so petty or lacking in discretion that it was a requirement of him respecting privacy. She's a Councillor, is part of something bigger; personal concerns take a backset to that, no question. And even if she weren't in the Inquisition, none of it's anyone else's business.

"If this whole show was about me keeping my mouth shut," he starts, "you don't need to worry. Wardens are plenty good at secrets." He could say that he's not interested in making people's lives difficult, but that might just be a lie. "Max an' me'll keep outta your way, save for what business might have has working together."