No surprise at all. Illya is used to eyes watching him. At least these eyes are appreciative, not watching and waiting for him to slip and fall. But he still dresses quickly, surprised that everything Solo has brought for him is something he would have chosen for himself, for their role reversal on this mission. He's a shadow himself now as he adjusts the black turtleneck, standing straighter as if encased in armor.

"Do not think threesome was on the table," he says, though he deftly avoids answering that not-quite-a-question. No reason to give Solo that kind of ammunition. It doesn't occur to him that anything short of a straightforward "no" is, in itself, an answer. "Would not have helped the mission anyway. She would not have said anything with someone else there. But she wants to talk, I think. She is unappreciated by her husband, and she has his secrets. Wants to spill them to someone, to feel important."

All of this is delivered with not a trace of sympathy or softness, just intel that Solo could use in their second attempt.