Cade steps inside and does as he's instructed, and when he sits it becomes clear how badly both his knees and his hands are shaking. He nods to what Zevran says, his mind clearly racing, though he's paying attention as best he can. He glances at the far door, his chest tightening nervously, but he tries to shake it off. He can leave whenever he wants.
But he can't help but measure this feeling against his tired dismay at the vast, indefinite future of having no privacy and feeling like a misbehaving animal. Leaving would mean admitting that that's what he would prefer, and he's not sure he does.