“I suppose that’s a good thing. Who knows what would’ve happened if you all had made it to Iliseeum?”

He grinned. “Well, if our presence woke the gods, I’m sure we would’ve won them over with our stunning personalities.”

I laughed. “I was thinking last night that your interest in the tunnels almost feels like divine intervention.”

“It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. A few moments passed, and I peeked over at him. He was quiet as he picked through the fruit, handing me a plump grape and then a dewy slice of melon. “I know we have to talk. You don’t have to delay it any longer.”

“We do.” Leaning back in his chair, he dragged his teeth over his lower lip as he continued rooting through the fruit. “Something I didn’t go into a lot of detail on this morning was something my father shared with me last night. Every member of the Guards of the Crown, from here to Evaemon, are being checked for possible involvement or knowledge of what the others were doing.”

“Have others been discovered?” I asked.

“None believed to have been directly involved so far,” he said as I took the strawberry he offered, and he picked up a piece of roasted meat for himself. “But there have been a few who suspected that something was going on with those working with Alastir. And some expressed concern about your presence.”

“Well that isn’t that surprising, is it?”

“Not really, but it leaves me wondering exactly how much they truly knew of what the others planned.” His fingers folded around his glass. “My father even believes that the ones involved with the attack may have spoken openly with those who weren’t, basically infecting others with their nonsense.”

Alastir’s and the other’s beliefs and words truly were like an infection, but was it one that could be cured? As we ate, I thought of those who had first attacked me. “The people who were at the Chambers?” I said, and Casteel stilled for a moment before picking up a napkin and wiping his fingers clean. “Once they realized what I was, one of them asked the gods to forgive them.”

A cruel, tight smile formed over the rim of his glass as he took a drink. “They won’t.”

“I…I hope they do.”

His brows lifted. “That is too kind of you, Poppy.”

“They didn’t kill me—”

“They wanted to.”

“Thanks for the unnecessary reminder.”

“It sounds like a very necessary reminder,” he replied flatly.

I resisted the urge to throw the piece of cheese I held. “Just because I hope they’re not wasting away in the Abyss for all eternity doesn’t mean I’m okay with what they tried to do to me.”

“Well, I do.”

I ignored that. “They were obviously very misinformed.”

“So?”

“What I’m trying to say is they weren’t like Alastir or Jansen or those who wore the Descenter masks. Their minds were made up. Nothing was going to change that.” I tossed the piece of cheese onto the platter. “But the ones at the Chambers? The others who may have known something was going on, or have concerns? Whatever opinions they’ve formed can be changed. It’s not a…fatal infection. They’re not the mindless Gyrms or the Craven.””