[ So far, so fairly ordinary. Less the particulars of these circumstances, and more Felix's behavior. Silly though the question, Felix's wariness at the door wasn't surprising, really, and his curt scraping of manners (Have a seat, or don't), is about what Claude would expect.

What's notable is his admission, what Claude could press on, an easy needling, as tempting and as dangerous as a hallway serenade: that his mind had been elsewhere. Focused enough on their musical challenge to loosen his grip on the sword for an entire week. Not that Claude thinks for so much as a fraction of a second that Felix's skills were affected, or that he hadn't trained at all. But it is notable. ]

Ha, I'm guessing, for that change, our minds were in roughly the same place. I'm sure I was utterly charming mental company.

[ Drawing any further attention to it, any serious attention to it, runs the risk of ruining it. It being this, or something, or both, or several more things. And he's looking far too much forward to Felix's piece. Even to embarrassing himself.

So, that's all for that, and as though Felix had said, Welcome to my room, please do take a seat!, Claude looses a sunny smile, ]

Thanks,

[ and takes advantage of one of those chairs, crossing an ankle over his knee and resting the lute over a thigh. ]

As much as I know you love small talk... who goes first?