It's the opposite of appetizing, but at the very least, Thranduil still holds a position of relative authority in Sina's mind-- never mind that he's not strictly one of her People, at least as far as she knows. All manner of things have come from the Fade, and there's no telling whether they're truly their own beings or if they are, in some way, connected to the Ancient Elvhen.

Either way, she feebly reaches for the spoon, looking at the soup like it's a chore she has to psych herself up for. But she takes a spoonful, and then, slowly, another. She's weak from grief and hunger, and her hand trembles as she does so.