[ Marcus takes the wineskin, waiting to drink from it, seeing an opportunity after the talk of windows and closed doors to do so deeply. He hasn't decided if he likes wine. It feels like an indulgence and that is still good enough.

He offers it back to her, a barely perceptible smile following on from talk of his retirement that wasn't. ]

Riftwatch [ he says, speaking an answer to a question he has been asking himself lately, and that he is doing it in the presence of a perfect stranger doesn't seem to be an obstacle, ] knows we're at our best when there isn't a boot on our necks. It has much to gain from a collective of talented mages in a way I'm not convinced the Inquisition ever properly realised. Or cared about.

Except for a moment, [ he concedes, ] in entertaining a Council.