[ He glances behind her, at the sorry excuse for beds they've got in these cells. Looks like he'd just barely fit on one of them, let alone get a decent night's sleep. Compare that to the bed he's got now, soft and huge, and, ] Sure, but I know which bed is better for my back. [ No point in extra suffering if it can be avoided; lucky him, here, it can be.

At her question, he cocks his head, frowns in thought. ] Dunno. Haven't decided yet. Who knows if the world actually needs saving, anyway, or if it's just a cover story for something else. Even without all of the medieval crap, this place seems pretty intent on returning to the good old days.

[ Which obviously isn't always ideal, but he doesn't know enough about the history here to make a proper judgment call. At the same time, it doesn't really matter: he'll go wherever the most opportunity for power is. Somewhere that has the technology — magic, whatever — to bring people across dimensions is the early frontrunner there, but who knows what it's like in the court. If he can destabilize things there, work his way into greater positions of influence. It'd be a good start, at least.

But oh, no. She suddenly sounds sincere now. His options there aren't great: trade the playful barbs for a meaningful attack, which is going to make him into the bad guy in a way he'd rather not be doesn't fit with the flow of their conversation at all; or show sympathy and, with that, weakness. It's a relief when it leaves her and things go back to normal. Silence is neutral.

He simply raises his eyebrows instead, choosing to go for a genuine question. ]

Was? You come from the apocalypse or something?