Maybe Marcus ought to have offered her a stiff drink instead. There are glasses somewhere, liquor on a shelf. A finger of whiskey might do her some good. But so too would getting this over with, he suspects, and starts considering his way around levering the conversation when she, instead, says that.

A minor gesture, hand tipping aside, a silent indication that he think it self-explanatory, but doesn't sound impatient when he says, "Because I was raised to consider mages something like kin, and taught to look after those who might require it. Because your business is your own, and I wouldn't be doing anything about it in an official capacity if not for my concern that you present a danger to yourself and others, given what I saw.

"Or felt," amendment. Bluntly, now that they are behind a latched door and stone walls, he says, "In this memory, you recall having killed someone. I need to know more."