'No trouble' and 'I need your help', given what had happened the last time they met, seemed contradictory.

"That doesn't explain what you need my help with," he noted, meeting her under the tree. The shadows of it weren't a deterrent to his gaze as he examined her. His head tipped. "You're not wearing your sword."

He would have thought, after losing it, that she would take her sword everywhere; and even if not, from the stories he's heard about the palace and the dungeons under it, being armed would seem prudent. Yet she wasn't. Curious.