"Never," Bastien promises. Sincerely, this time, with a rush of earnestness, squeezed in before the door opens and three people file in from the hall. Their talk amongst themselves comes to a halt while they take stock of the situation. One of them—a woman, dressed as if for a hunt—steps closer to examine Athessa, while an older man with a mask and a woman carrying a staff stop in front of Bastien.

He doesn't move from his chair, while he hands over the crystal and answers a few stupid questions about the situation. Was there anyone else here? No. Does anyone else know? No. How long until they know there was a problem? When he goes back and says so. With them he's still and cold in a way he wasn't before, all signs of regret gone. All signs of anything gone, really.

"You couldn't get someone with an anchor?" the huntress standing over Athessa asks.

He shakes his head.