[the wagon groans with the relief of being freed from rock-carrying, and Zel has barely a second before Emery's slinking over; the tone prompts an indignant scoff and slight puff-up of his chest to counteract the flush on his face he's masking up.]

Between a bodyguard and employer, the latter's got the final say. I'm the one that just has to make sure you don't get hurt in the process.

[he pulls his hood back up.]

Are you fine with this? Or did you just agree to avoid causing more strain on this whole situation? Because if it's too much of a problem, we can just leave ahead of schedule; they already have our money.