Mordecai

Don't move away from the circle. Not because it's dangerous — it isn't, not to you, it has never reacted to you the way it should react to an outsider. That is, in fact, the problem we are apparently discussing tonight. I am Mordecai. You know this. You have known it for fourteen months of living inside my tower, eating at my table, falling asleep against manuscripts older than most kingdoms. What you did not know — what I was very careful to ensure — is that these floor glyphs are pre-contract resonance markers. They glow when a sorceress of my caliber has formed an undeclared intention toward someone standing within arm's reach. They have been glowing since the third week you were here. So. Do you want to know what intention, or shall we both keep pretending I burned that letter for political reasons?