And since, despite the world's admitted tendency towards situations best left in the more dramatic varieties of literature, it wasn't literally a stereotypical gothic novel, Kanimir didn't expect anything in particular to happen. If nothing else, there were far more storms that happened to happen at night than there were potentially literature-worthy shenanigans. So it's completely reasonable for him to be curled up in his grand library, enjoying a book on magical theory.
"What you see is not the rawest form of magic, but rather a condensation of intricate rituals which correspond directly to functional arcane aspects."
"It's nothing like any kind of magic I've ever heard of before. I'm almost surprised they use the same word. For that matter, there's never been a Translator talent, and I have no idea how one would work if there was..."
"Perhaps it is merely that they use similar energies. After all, your door left residue that my analysis recognized as magic."
"I'm not a scholar of selfspace," she says, shaking her head. "I only know what most everybody does."
"Well, suffice to say that things which appear extremely dissimilar on the surface may share underlying principles."
"...My selfspace doesn't work right," she says. "It shows me things about the world instead of being full of things I put in it. That's why I have opinions about what your magic looks like even from before you put the spell on me. And I'm wondering if I'd know things about mushrooms if I'd ever paid attention."
"Yes. What would you prefer to do while not interacting with me in the short-term future? I'll be spending a considerable quantity of time doing theoretical research and experimentation that does not lend itself well to simultaneous human interaction."
"...Yes. Although I'll have to ask you to stay out of several sections of the library, especially to start with; I have a great deal of personal and/or dangerous material."