"Getting played, more like," Merlin quips in return, glancing toward Fitz and the fast-talking Cicero. That kid's always up to something. Or maybe he's just got a sneaky face. This thought makes him start to laugh again and he covers his too-warm face with his hands for a moment. He looks up again just in time to see Mags watching Uriah and Tybalt disappear somewhere. She looks...he doesn't know what. But he's relieved when she doesn't say anything about it.

It takes him a moment to register what she does say, though. Feeling his oats? He mouths the unfamiliar phrase then shakes his head. "Me? I don't..." He moves his hands in meaningless, fluttering gestures before concluding, "...with all this. I dunno. Who cares?" This isn't as clear as he seems to think it is, but he turns the question back to Mags as though he's provided a perfectly suitable answer, "What about you?"