[ The kettle will need a few minutes. Ciri prepares the pot, the sugar, the milk in a little decorative ceramic pitcher; her movements are clearly on instinct and habit, her eyes on Claude.

She leans on the counter, arms crossed atop it. ]

That's admirable. To care about your people and your responsibility so deeply.

[ She pauses, trying to figure out how to ask without it being awkward. Too many half-remembered conversations that never happened in real life. ]

...can you tell me more about it? Your home?