Yennefer's eyebrows stood lifted, her eyes fixed upon the goblet. It filled. And instead of the stale, cold hay smell of the farmhouse the spiced tart smell of the spirits wafted to her senses. All the savagery and discomforts around her had lowered her inhibitions enough for her to soft murmur a pleased hum. If this was an illusion, she'd happily partake. It seemed real enough without taste. That would be the true test.

"May they be as useful and charming as yourself," she lifted her goblet in a toast, and yes she would be waiting until Regulus lifted his to touch her's or at least return the gesture.

The first taste has a similar hum in her throat. Just as she wanted, just as she craved. And of course because it was too good to be true it made her suspicious. "You've...been here long?" Long enough to be able to find ways for his own sorcery to serve him. And long enough to have seen a few other reactions to the farm abode.