Sam felt a bit pleased that she had struck a royal speechless, though she hid the satisfaction from her expression. She smiled and nodded when Dorothea told her was glad she was coming. "I'm glad we're not saying goodbye yet either," Sam said, biting her lip momentarily while smiling. "Even though we met under some equally terrible circumstances, you've sort of become...a friend. If that's...the right word." She looked back down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Kind of the weirdest friend I've ever had. Sorry, no offense. That was meant to be a compliment."

She looked back at the tent when Dorothea brought up the Marshal, her eyes troubled as she wondered again if she was doing the right thing. It seemed so logical that he was tricking her, but her instinct kept telling her that he hadn't been lying. When she thought of how he'd threatened her she also thought of how he'd laughed at her jab about how he smelled. It was almost like he was two people, the Marshal and August. Sam feared the Marshal, but August...August she might possibly be able to trust. It was confusing and unsettling, but she had made her decision and she supposed she had to stick to it. She was tempted to tell Dorothea what he had told her. That he claimed to be working against Narissa, waiting to find her weakness. But she had promised him that she wouldn't say anything, and Sam didn't think Dorothea would believe it anyway. 

Turning her head to look back down at the cat, Sam offered a small smile. "You don't have to talk to him, if you don't want to. I already told the dwarves that I would take responsibility for him. I don't know for sure if he can be kept under control...but I'll try. You don't have to trust him. Just trust me. Can you do that?"