The former Summer Sovereign takes his flask back from the other former Summer Sovereign and slips it back into his jacket pocket. He listens intently to Spartan's speech, then wonders if he heard right. A fleeting thought about the usefulness of Q-tips is just that- fleeting, for Sam has little time for hygienics. He raises his voice and tries his best not to sound like the delusional paranoiac that he surely is and counters, "Eh, 'scuse me, yer highness, beggin' yer pardon an' all that, but, uh...what?" He clears his throat and tries again. "We already taken the Freehold Pledge, an' Sam kent in good conscience take another promisin' not to hurt people. Uh, yeh know. In case one a yew is a traitor or gone batshit, pardon me French, Sam reserves the right to decapitate yeh with extreme prejudicial enforcement, like. Nothin' personal to anyone, yeh know?" Sam stops, takes a deep breath, and finishes, "Dangerously care-bearish, if yeh ask ol' Sam, which no one ever does, but he tells yeh anway. Um...I guess I just don't get yer point, Sovereign. No offense."
Rook's accusation against Rust has to be ignored for now, as he doesn't want to ignore or disrespect any retort Spartan may have, but his inner gears are whirring away at this new information, and wondering if Rust popped a gasket or had some angle he was workin'...he'd have to ask later. And then he'd have to find out the truth.