"I should have hired you," he says lightly, entirely pleased with the quiet night and her delicate touch. "I might have avoided the prison."

The words catch up with him a moment later - stupid, incredibly stupid, to talk about what landed him in a cell in the first place - and he grimaces.
There's no taking them back, though. His best hope is that Vex'ahlia won't be curious (and thus far, he has little reason to believe she won't be).

His second-best hope is to change the subject, though he's in no place to do an elegant job of that, either. "Do you like it it? The work, that is."