The erstwhile professor listens attentively, really mulling over the meaning of the words. Like music, he says? Hm. Byleth has never been very musically inclined. Choir practice in the church was... not his favorite.

"I should very much like to attend what you would consider a good party. It sounds very specific."

When Emet mentions eating off the same plate, there's a glimmer of clarity, and Byleth's eyebrows knit faintly.

"Oh, yes. I apologize if that's rude. That is simply how I was raised. My father and I would often share food in this way." He's about to rise to his feet but he's immediately distracted by the pull of curiosity about the object that's now handed to him. He turns it over and over in his hands, delicately examining every detail. He runs a finger over the decorations around the rim.

"This is the kind of excitement I prefer," he says, tilting his head to look at the bottom of the plate once more before handing it back. "If you could make something so finely crafted by simply a snap, I imagine you must be able to do a great deal more. I... won't pry unless you are amicable to indulge me." He learned from the last time.

Ah, but he remembers.

"Let me fetch you another plate. It wouldn't do to have that dissipate in the middle of eating."