[ It's not until Dion says in my experiences as a prince that Claude finally pauses in his actions, this time mid-raising the last of his flatbread to his mouth, to eye the other man for a second before continuing right on as though there'd been no stutter whatsoever. It isn't the prince thing or the title, really. But it is that he finally connects a vague feeling he'd had earlier on how the other man speaks to something else where it now suddenly makes a lot more sense. Beyond the title, there's an echo of something else he thought he'd heard in those words said before it. ]

Huh. You remind me a little of a prince I knew once.

[ Or 'knew' as much as anyone could actually know Dimitri; that's an exaggeration for a slightly stiff prince who'd once wandered the same academy halls as him with far too much politeness and a rather heavy dose of seriousness in such a combination Claude often wondered if it was real. It'd been enough for him to bother Dimitri now and then with the intent of prying around the edges of it to see what was beneath - and then the world had taken care of shattering that particular prince's mask into a thousand pieces.

Well. He'd rather not dwell on the last time he saw Dimitri or anything about Gronder Field. Claude waves his now free hand before reaching for his tea, taking a sip to clear his throat. ]

Anyway, I don't say any of what I did before to mean you have to commit to being very princely here or anything of the sort if you don't want to. Nothing wrong with figuring out who you might want to be outside of who you were at home, starting with, say, finding new foods to enjoy in Nocwich.

[ That's absolutely paired with a grin over the edge of his mug. A little levity after everything talked about never hurts. ]