The entire setup reminds her of something from her grandmother's kitchen. It's the doily that cinches it. It's both familiar and foreign, much like the tea that the demon has brewed for her. It smells like a spiced black tea, but the violet color suggests something else. Eschewing any sweeteners for the moment, she lifts up the cup and takes a small, curious sip.

"Oh, this is very good," she says enthusiastically. "It's not quite like anything I've had, but I like the combination of spices." Her palate is not discerning enough for her to be able to identify the third flavor, but the mystery only makes it more appealing. Now that she knows how it tastes plain, she has a better sense of what to add to it, so she sets down the cup and spoons out a bit of cream, turning the deep violet into a softer lavender shade. She does give the honey jar a second glance, though, and wonders where it came from. There are cats in hell, so maybe there are bees, too...

The demon's confession on his love for food conflicting with his actual needs makes her smile softly. "Caspar is the same way. I don't think he cares much for sleep, though." She takes another sip of tea. "I'll bring you a variety next time. We've been making our own blends from the plants that grow wild on our island."