Caleb scoffs at her claim of innocence, bold-faced lie that it is, head shaking slightly at this charmless pretense. He knows his own crimes; knows one of theirs could never claim innocence and mean it. No, that was stripped from them all throughout the torturous process, until only the killers remained. What use would a spy have for innocence? What worth did it have for the Empire? Innocence was for the people they protected, not for them. And she knows she is the same; Wren has the marks that prove it. "Maybe it would be disgraceful, ja, if we were talking about a real innocent, which you are not. Do you not tire of pretending?"
Yet he knows his case is weak; it will continue to be so, unless he dares to expose her for everything, and he cannot. Her excuse, blatant excuse that it is, would be enough to shield her from scrutiny. If anything, Caleb thought with no small amount of bitterness, it would make the others sympathetic to hear of her troubled sleep and how her mind continued to torment her, despite the absence of memories. He could not demand that she warn them every time she woke up at night. The mere suggestion is ridiculous, and she knows that. Her late night disappearances were suspicious, but not damning on their own. Everyone else would more easily judge him paranoid than heed that there was reason to be wary.
So he says nothing a moment longer; lets her go on her spiel about defending herself, mouth opening to reply before she silences him with a gesture.
What he cannot make sense of is why she insists on lying when it's just the two of them. Fear of unnoticed eyes, ears too attentive to distant conversation? They are distant enough from camp that it makes no sense. It would be just as effective to drive him insane by playing the two-faced role without clinging to this false virtue she insists on. More freeing, maybe, to not have to feign for a bit. Or perhaps she delighted in not giving him the reprieve of knowing he was right, all the while denying him the means to act on it.
"I do not want you hurt — I want you gone. And I do not wish to have to make it happen myself, but I will, if I must." Warning more than threat; one more dangerous than the magic he had been prepared to reach for but did not. Intense gaze lingers on her, and in a last, not entirely calculated resort, he decides to test for a reaction, no matter how small. "Maybe you are right and I cannot use this against you now. But I won't suffer you forever, and I tire of your games, Volstrucker."