He considered this, had met men like Gideon. Yasha had a similar look when they met on the field, and perhaps that had been what drew him to the man in the first place, not being afraid of him. Now, though, it irritated him. He was done with this, with Gideons' sharply written words in his little wax tablet.

Delicate hands reached out, suddenly take the tablet from Gideon. It was an easy thing to summon his gift, to heat his hands. The smell of warm wax filled the air and he watched the tablet soften in his hands. He broke it apart, held the pieces, let them slowly drip down on either side of him.

"Men who do not know when they are beaten are boring," he said, turning his hands over to let the last of the tablet drip down, arching a brow at Gideon, waiting to see how he might respond. The journal was an option, but as far as he could see, Gideon did not use the Castle's little welcome gift.