Claude's so distracted by the gentle squeeze of Lorenz's hand in his, that he practically jolts to his feet when Lorenz reminds him of the tea. "Gah! That's right." Claude likes his tea strong and bitter and so lets it steep longer out of habit, but he'd forgotten that's not exactly ideal when the choice of tea is lemon. He quickly crosses the room, and pours them both a cup as he talks.

"You'd be surprised, actually. Most Almyran tea in Fódlan is the real deal. My grandfather loosened trade restrictions back in his reign, so all kinds of exports sneak their way across the border." He crosses the room again, handing Lorenz a cup. "Does it taste okay?"