Horacio shrugged at the lack of response to his query on if they were looking forward to the event or not, realizing the answer was probably a decisive [i]not[/i], and his laughter at their predicament was most likely not earning him any favours... not that he needed them of course. For now, he decided his input was not needed nor helpful and as a simple syllogism the conclusion would be drawn that therefore he should stay quiet and stay quiet he did. 

He examined Bovange disinterestedly, not really appreciating the architecture and such but only rather remembering the general layout of the city should worst come to worst and legging it was the only option. 

As they proceeded to the 'preparation room' Horacio thanked the guide but politely declined following the Sisters, not particularly interested in any sort of preparation and preferring to leave them to their own business. Besides, he had to shift a thing or two before he could sit properly. 

Indeed, as time came to properly meet the nobs and Horacio caught sight of the servitor checking for weapons his grip upon one of his firearms tightened, or rather clenched. 

But... he passed? What? The Confessor was about to ask the man to see if the thing was defective until he realized what a bloody idiot he was. Most likely it didn't check for large traces of metal or some other technological nonsense he knew none of, it most likely just looked to see if outwardly there were signs of carrying arms or armour and his concealment had worked! He happily muttered praise to the Emperor, taking control of himself once more. After Alexa and Lisbeth had spoken the old man took this for his cue and nodded, doing vaguely holy motions and said "Blessings of the God Emperor of Mankind be upon you." It helped to tenderly pad the ego of such people was his experience, and thus went along with the simplest means of doing such.