There would be a disparaging comment here about how he can't help it his God prefers farm boys to royalty, but he doesn't want to derail this, for once. He hadn't asked because they haven't asked anything of each other – for all their banter, the closeness between them has been left unspoken, without obligation to have (let alone share) any manner of subtler emotion, and Jack has appreciated that comfortable silence enough that even now, he's loathe to disturb it. But everything is closer to the surface tonight, and he has wondered.

"Not unless said eccentric parent was of a particular class themselves, no." Good breeding doesn't come from nowhere. It's said gently, but his eyes don't falter from his friend's, even as he reaches absently for his own wine.