“I still don’t understand why he’d be angry about that,” Lambert says, honestly. “Why would he be angry about anyone finding out he made a contract to deal with someone who tried to destroy the world. I’m pretty sure half the Carnival’s made contracts for worse reasons.”

“Are you taking that or not?” the stall owner interrupts at this point, clearly annoyed to have people jabbering and taking up room at her stall instead of actively playing the game. Lambert snorts and motions for Reira to hand it over.

“Did he ask you not to tell anyone?” That’s what he has to assume the daemon’s reaction means.