Edward’s fingers leave the glass so that Izzy can refill it, but once it's filled he immediately brings it to his lips again. Somewhere-- deep enough within him, he recognizes the excitement he feels to see Izzy happy like this. Proud. It's so infrequent that this man seems proud of him, these days.

He's mid-drink when Izzy asks of Stede, and it immediately makes him want to spit. Why do you care? he wants to ask. You set his ass up. Sold us both out.

He doesn't say either of those things. Instead, he gently places his glass back onto the table, answering Izzy without looking at him. "Don't know. Could still be there. Could be dead. Doesn't matter." Matters even less now.