Jack notices, more so right now because there's such quiet between them, because he's already studying the other man for signs of discomfort or just to remind himself through those little details that Balthier is here now, safe. The little toast makes him smile, but he waves a hand at it, dismissive. (Distracted.)

"You know, you have better manners than my father," he muses, eyebrows knit like he's particularly fixed on the thought. "Which would be meaningless if the man had always been king, but he was born the son of a mule breeder and had to learn late."

Balthier doesn't strike him as someone who learned late.