“My apologies, Claude. I have not been clear in my meaning. I do not offer to do these things for you out of deference, but because I know that these past few weeks have been difficult, and I would provide what comfort and ease that I can.”

Actions speak more clearly and readily for him than words. And like any good Faerghan— or foreign boy mostly brought up by Faerghans, anyway— that tends to mean making a pot of tea for anyone enduring hardship.

“Besides,” he says, and there is just a hint of a there-and-gone-again smile at the corners of his mouth, “were I treating you as I would a master, you would not have needed to ask for tea. I would have already had it prepared in anticipation of your needs.”