With an anticipatory grin, Benedict removes his coffee from the glyph and waves the latter away to take a sip of the former, folding his legs. Unsurprisingly, no laugh comes forth.

"Why is that funny?" he turns, arranging himself to look at Cedric, taking a momentary break from the work. "You're level-headed, you ask questions. I can think of far worse people to take the job."

Or to have already had the job, but he won't speak ill of the... departed for Orzammar.