Zeph cringing. Archon Dolar hit all the right buttons, in all the wrong ways.
Zeph wanted to chunk her into a room with Zimbo and say; "Sorry buddy," and lock the door behind him so that the two could have lots of "fun" together.
Hell, Bel might even encourage him to do so. She was a Mostly reformed little harlot of an angel after all. The more time he spent around Archon Dolar the more he was convinced that she had at least a little inp or goblin in her. Zeph still wasn't a hundred percent sure what the correct terminology was for Zimbo's race as his brain was stuck on D&D adjacent fantasy terminology when it came to his little green buddy.
He didn't need to be far smarter than the average person on Vlaras to pick up on her less-than-shuttle wordplay. In saying that she felt like she worked her tits off and could use a bath and a massage, she was basically telling him that she wanted her chest included in that message.