"Well now I know you're being sarcastic," Alistair says, like he hadn't cottoned on at cuisine or, arguably, before Dorian spoke at all, ever. He has one of those faces. "But go back to the cult, please, sorry? They don't let us out much."

That isn't true, physically speaking, of course. But Wardens are very focused. Insular. Until the dots looked like they might connect, the Inquisition's troubles seemed very distant--and minor, to people not in the habit of concerning themselves with anything except the Blight.