He lifts his eyebrows and points back at Zerxus' plate. There's no order there, but there is certainly a prompt to pick his fork up, or at least remember that food exists.

The lifted eyebrows and faint amusement fits the rest of the conversation, too. ...Or rather doesn't, but fits the 'am I lying or not' game he's very carefully playing. Holding that idea at the front of his mind and not reacting to the topic or Zerxus' response on any deeper level.

"Based on the timing of events, somewhere between seven and nine." He isn't more clear. "Why do you ask?"