Lancelot studies her a moment intensely, considering her. Considering her sudden caution and how to approach this. He could continue to keep things to himself, with the risk that she thinks him hiding it all purposefully, or he could tell her and risk that she flees and never speaks to him again.

He tilts his head, spreads one hand flat on the handle between them -- palm down, carefully drawing her attention.

"I can tell you if you want to know," he says finally, "to keep things fair between us. Things aren't a secret for me on purpose, you simply didn't ask before. That, and there's a degree of plausible deniability you'd lose."

Lancelot flies a wry smile at that. She's already guessed he isn't her faction, after all. If he was then he'd have had no reason not to tell her, and she might have seen him day to day. The question is how to tell her without causing her to accuse him of something underhand.