They feel insulted on these hypothetical blades behalf, somehow, even as they know it's nonsense on multiple levels. They brush it off. They know what he means, and that bragging is obviously genuine.

Alright, then. The Knight stands when he does, a little slower with all the wriggling it takes to extract them from the pillows.

They look at Lemm and then back to the pile, but--well, if he has something he wants to give them or ask them do, he can sleep after sharing it. Dregs of anxiety sink far beneath curiosity over what he might mean.