Beau found himself smiling back somewhat in spite of himself, having half-expected some kind of smugness from Tucker about the situation and surprised to find none. At least not yet. Beau relaxed slightly as his peace offering was accepted with genuine politeness and he nodded and shrugged, “Being cut off from little comforts is difficult. You’re welcome.” He responded to Tucker's thanks, watching him start to peel into the clementine in that very nearly ritualized way that had always used to make him smile.
“Viola is managing the situation well. She’s at her best when she’s in control.” He said with a little shrug. Though honestly her volunteering, alone, to look after so many ill people worried him. She had said, of course, that it was no real illness. Withdrawals. He watched Tucker’s face. Surely if the Faidoux was designed to be addictive Tucker would know. He did much of the work on it after all. Surely he wouldn’t carry on this kind of charade about them actually being sick. “I only hope that everyone will make it through alright. It must be difficult to have so many of your own servants down with it.”