Maou didn't need words for those feelings, because he wouldn't be able to understand. He had already accepted Lucifer's actions and forgiven him. That was what mattered to Maou.

As it was, he shrugged, acquiescing. He claimed another lump of meat, dipping it into the sauce. "I'd like to keep what we have. No matter where we end up next."

He wouldn't pretend that it was probable or even possible. He couldn't make promises he couldn't stab into a rock and trust that there it would stay for a few centuries. Maou just didn't want to lose his friends, now matter how badly he fucked up.