Faolan raises his eyebrows at the other man for a moment, but can't help letting out the huff of a laugh as well. Asking all those questions... Lancelot had been planning this from the start. There's something about the thought of him going through that much effort on his account, when he really didn't have to, that makes Faolan feel. Odd. But not in a bad way. Warm. Happy. And combined with the way that his body had reacted moments earlier. Well, it's confusing at best. But he's certainly not complaining.

"You," he says, shaking his head and setting the bread aside to reach for his spoon to try some of the soup itself now. "How could I refuse a cake? How could I refuse any of this, even if I hadn't just come off of the assignment that I did?" He shakes his head again, going quiet for a moment, poking at a potato as he tries to work out how best to express himself again. "I'm. I won't begin to imagine what got into your head, to do all this. For me. But thank you." He huffs out another breath. "I feel like I just keep owing you more and more..."