She's definitely the wrong person to provide a suitable metric for what qualifies as a sin, but thankfully, that's not where his interest lies. Companionship though... friendly companionship. It's not her favorite pastime in the universe, nope, but her senses are too embroiled in the nostalgia-born memories created by the tea to want to leave just yet.

Reluctantly, she shifts closer, staring at the stranger suspiciously, unable to intuit any level of malice or ulterior motives from him. Her gut is usually right about these things, so she eventually relents after an uncomfortable amount of staring.

"Only for one cup. You can tell me what you know about Cyrus of the Meridian while I drink."

Her brush with him hadn't been yet forgotten, and he's the only noteworthy figure she's encountered thus far outside of the Dryad.