Alistair steps into her line of sight as quickly as he can cross the room, arms spread to herd her and anyone else back. They cleaned up while he was sleeping, put away the chalice and cleared away any evidence of black, tainted blood, but there are still matters to attend to. Like, "Don't say anything." He aims it over his shoulder at Felix, whom they did not debrief on the issue of what was and wasn't a secret before handing him the cup. Alistair adds, "Sabriel," too, in a pleading sort of tone; he means, Sabriel, don't let him say anything, because she's nearest to him and knows him best, and Alistair trusts her to understand.

He glances at Kaidan, too, who is the real adult here, then over the heads of anyone in the doorway in search of Scipio. He had one job.

But it's a lost cause, really, and the impulse to stop them gives way to resignation. He stays in the doorway as a matter of principle, but he lowers his arms and says, "He's fine," like they're silly to have ever thought otherwise.