Thank goodness for the change of subject. Perhaps things can return to some semblance of normalcy.

"Ah--no. Not quite," he muses. Glad to be moving away from his faux pas, Link plucks a tall glass from a stack beneath the counter and settles it in Syrlya's reach.

"I don't much care for it so I tend to leave it in the kitchen."

One of those strange, non-paper drinking straws is fished from his apron and slid next to the glass. With that, his service is complete. Link hesitates.

"... Should I?"