Awareness has certainly not been a strong suit of his since arriving.... well... for a long time before that if he's perfectly honest. As the weeks had dragged on into months and it became more and more clear that he was more likely to end up taken down into the chambers beneath the estate than he was to be rescued by Claude or any of the other Deer time had gradually lost much of it's meaning. He had little to do but stare longingly out of windows, read and write, scribble out a thousand letters that would never be sent. Sanity slowly slipping away beneath the blanket of fear.

"Versatile, yes I suppose it would." Adaptable in a way. Though now that Dimitri has mentioned the fact it's made from some sort of... milk? The comparison to cheese is clearer in it's texture. He takes another spoonful of soup, savoring the richness of it without being heavy like a stew.

"This really is lovely, Your Highness." Another weak attempt at a smile. "Thank you... I... cannot recall the last time I had occasion to enjoy a meal like this.

Back in Derdriu surely, possibly even with Claude. But even he had not suspected his father of such villainy as what had kept him from returning to Claude's side and as such he had not truly appreciated the time he'd had.