He doesn't mention that it's good because she made it for him and served it in her special cups. That's something he doesn't need to discuss. Not now, probably not ever.

He just drinks his tea.

"Stop doing that," he gripes, lifting his eyes finally to scowl half heartedly at her when she keeps watching him. "You make me feel like I'm going to fall apart. I'm okay." He's lying through his teeth, but he'd like it if she did him the courtesy of not being so blatant about not believing him.