It sits wrong. Alistair couldn't say why; loving Zevran doesn't make him clever enough to see through his masks, only enough to sometimes know one is there. And to not like it. Still, he smiles--uncertainly, but a smile is a smile--and doesn't press. He peels his eyes away from Zevran's face to glance back at the soldiers, then sets his gaze ahead to say, "Thanks, Zev."