In the quiet of the moment, of Ed taking the tea from him as he stood there, he took the opportunity to take in his appearance. Back in his leather, his hair down, but the distinct lack of facial hair was still a jarring look.
Still, Stede didn't mind it. He took note of what appeared to be faded black grease paint on his skin, though. Streaked and smeared with what could have been either sweat or tears. Maybe both. That thought caused his heart to ache dully in sadness. Had Ed been crying?
"No, just a few days, really," he confessed quietly as he took a moment to glance around the space. It was distinctly lacking in character, despite the efforts of whoever had designed the room. But at Ed's next words, Stede breathed out a quiet sigh and carefully moved to sit. Near him, but not directly in his space.
"I do want to talk, yes. I was on my way to finding you when I wound up here, but a few days alone in a dinghy gives a man ample time to sit with his thoughts." He paused and frowned, glancing over at Ed briefly. "His mistakes."