The cloth is lightly tossed at the Knight's proferred Void tendrils, and he gestures to them, at the tea. They should clean themselves up.

Lemm kneels and begins tinking the shattered wet ceramic piece by piece into one cupped hand. This is easier for it all being in one pile like that. They've helped enough, and anyway guests shouldn't tidy. So he's heard.

(He pauses briefly over a large fragment with most of the shiny handle still on it. Narrows his eyes.)

"Keep writing when you're ready. Didn't mean to interrupt."