The man pauses to regard your pour. There is just the hint of one of his eyebrows raising. He waits for you to sit again and then takes a seat himself across from you.
“They call me Gill here, and this is my establishment.”
He takes the cup on his right, a sign he is interested in dialogue. Had he taken the one on the left it may have meant he was only politely humoring you.
“Just Gill. No titles. This is a simple hall for simple men. I find there are many in Fanlu who strive for something more complex… who build up estates and households to run them. This was a free town, founded by free men of humble beginnings. It would seem many came here to escape lands lorded over by nobles, only to take on their practices…lacking the noble blood of course. Your house for instance, is much grander than mine, as is your title…master Threnody…lord Threnody…and yet what great king or noble clan secures such a title? Plenty of men in Fanlu willing to call themselves lords and masters, and take up the accouterments of such, yet none of them fool me. We are all just commoners in my eyes. The people of Fanlu, one and all, are remnants spat out from the lands of nobles and high clans, fortunate enough to land beneath the gaze of a benevolent spirit and make a home here, that is all.”
You are unsure if he is being frank and bold, or just testing you to get a reaction.