Kayden had to admit he didn't enjoy the idea of indentured servitude to anyone, but one did what one must in order to survive. Plus, he wasn't about to go back on his word. He'd become a sellsword captain to experience new lands and places, and make a name for himself. He supposed infiltrating something as mythical as Whitehall fit the bill quite nicely. That is not to say he wasn't filled with trepidation. He didn't blindly go into danger, and from the stories, Whitehall was incredibly dangerous. 

He had eaten his fill, and now (attempting to be) casually sipped his drink as he lounged on his chair next to his new 'employer.' "Your concern for your country is admirable." he said, eyes on her from behind his mug. He was glad he was wetting his throat. His mouth felt dry at the prospect of going into such an eldritch place. "And if we were to find any items of note within?" His eyes glinted from the prospect.