Jon raises his mug as well, knowing the alcohol will help with the tension still wrapped around him. He's all for letting go of the demons and their having fun with him tonight. The crown feels like it's digging into his skull.

"...seems they dressed people in what they'd hate being dressed in," he says, which seems pretty purposeful. It's a lesser punishment for all of the torture they put on in Hell, but he still doesn't like it. He glances at the stew, shaking his head. "...fine. You don't trust the food?"

It's not the first time he's heard someone worrying about exactly that this week. Jon assumed they had enough power over them that they wouldn't need to poison the food too, but now he's not so sure.