Benedict narrows his eyes, his arms remaining crossed and his posture slumped. There was a time he'd have obeyed Atticus without any trouble, but that time is over.
"Oh do we," he grumbles, "yet would our work not be much more easily done if we didn't have jailers in the first place? Atticus??"
Normally he'd preface the man's name with Master or Magister or some other honorific, but no such title is deserved anymore as far as he's concerned.