A gesture of some measure good will, that she allows her own doubtfulness to be visible; she anticipates that he knows enough to recognise deliberate choice in her expression, that she allows it to be read. How easily she could choose otherwise.

“She asks a great deal of our risk,” she notes, “for what amounts to a great deal more of our work.”

That isn't to say what she's offering is nothing. To be sure: they have done more with less and, god willing, shall again. And again, and again. Even still, she thinks,

if he had no such concerns himself, he would not be dropping his dilemma at her feet, plucking his sleeve, worrying for the consequence. “We would not hold her prisoner,” is a practical matter more than a sentimental one; they have made less kind decisions about that math than Artemaeus was afforded, before, “but I think it ought to be clear we would expect further cooperation. The risk is not unworthy, but the burden need be shared and we should not forget in managing it,”

she gazes at him directly,

“that she is in this position of her own doing.”