[Tea. Tea. Some civilization in this place.]

Thank you, [Stede says, and has a sip. It's not his own stash, and for a second he misses preparing another cup with a dollop of milk and seven sugars - wouldn't be the same with six. It aches. But that's just the way of it - Ed's not here.]

I suppose I ought to get this out of the way first - am I dead, then? Because I can't imagine that hell has tea.