Simon took the offered cup and sipped. Tea was the sort of thing that brought comfort, but also brought memories of childhood and home that twisted uncomfortably in his stomach. His childhood was behind him, his family was estranged, and Simon could never go back to a time when he'd sit in the family library and drink nearly an entire pot of tea by himself while toiling over schoolwork (and while his sister skipped around bothering him).
The tea here wasn't exceptionally good, either, but Simon had gotten used to it.
He raised his eyebrows at the word whore, and while he didn't quite tut with disapproval he nearly did. Companions were respected, powerful, and what Inara did was far more complicated than being a whore. Mal couldn't see that, but Mal couldn't see past his own nose sometimes when it came to practices that were respected among the Core planets.
"I'd say that's because no one knows, but people do," he said flatly. "I don't think I warned you about it yet, but be prepared to have people know far more about your business than you'd ever want to share. To some, you're fictional. I've heard a few explanations for it that make sense if you're drunk."