"We'll have to sleep in the common room, I can compel a room for myself but I'm not sure I could extend that obligation to each of my companions." Alexander said as the group arrived one of the inns surrounding the train station. The sun was hanging low in the sky, illuminating grey columns spewing forth from approaching locomotives.

"A room for each of us? Why would we need such extravagance?" Katla asked, pausing briefly to look back at the walls of the city illuminated against the horizon by the setting sun.

"Well, we couldn't share a room."

"Is this another law or custom? About being in too small a space with foreigners?"

"No, it's just that an Inquisitor sharing a private room with a woman would look improper."

"Improper?" Katla replied with a laugh. "Would people think I let you plow me while my brother watched?"

Alexander's eyes widened in surprise under his helmet at Katla's bluntness while Einar wrinkled his nose but said nothing.

"An Inquisitor must be beyond reproach in all matters, giving no grounds for anyone to accuse him of any vice or corruption."

"Yet people might think you're putting your sword in my scabbard even with my brother as chaperone simply because we sleep in the same room." Katla said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"It would not be the most perverse thing ever done by vicious men."

"No, I suppose not. No matter, we are simple people, we have no expectations of private lodgings while traveling. In Starklund, a man who requests a private room is seen as being a man on important business or someone desperate to be seen as one."

"Honestly, anything will be better than the ship we came over on. Einar and me, we're accustomed to the cold so we could huddle up on the deck wearing our spare clothes," Katla said, holding up the small cloth bag she carried that held all of her meager possessions. "But the southerners we picked up along the coast on our way here? Oh, I pitied those thin-skinned wretches. They had to sleep below deck. I tried once, but it stank and was even more damp than the deck was! I'd rather freeze to death and have my body tossed overboard to feed the sharks than spend a night down there."

The common room of the inn was packed with travelers when the group entered through the front doors. The hum of conversation quieted at the sight of an Inquisitor dressed in his armor and cloak. Behind him followed a tall, blonde woman wearing a tunic and trousers instead of the simple dresses commonly worn by women of the Empire. Finally, a blond man so tall he had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe entered. Alexander could feel the eyes of the patrons on him as he lead his companions to the proprietor. He handed the man two small coins and requested food for three. The man eyed the two Starklunders but nodded.

Alexander led his companions to an empty table and the three sat on wooden stools. The innkeeper brought three bowls of soup and a small loaf of bread to share. While the man poured wine from a clay jug into three plain cups Alexander picked up the bread and tore off a large chunk and held it out to Einar, who blinked several times and wrinkled his nose but said nothing.

"Ah, Einar does not like people touching his food," Katla said sheepishly before turning to the innkeeper. "Do you have a knife I can use?"

Alexander placed the remaining bread on the table and kept the piece he tore off for himself while Katla cut the remaining loaf down the middle and pushed one half towards her brother with the blade. Einar thanked her and began eating, the innkeeper watching the proceedings with a raised eyebrow.

"Does he think I'm dirty?" Alexander asked when the innkeeper had left them alone.

"Yes, but not you specifically. He just doesn't like when people touch his food after it's been made."

Alexander nodded and began to tear off chunks of bread and dip them in his soup. Katla raised her wine cup above her head. "Pro-" she began but stopped herself, "Uh, Health!" she exclaimed in a loud voice before taking a mouthful. People turned to look at the outburst but looked away when they saw the woman was seated with an Inquisitor.

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"It's so quiet here," Katla said after a few moments of eating quietly, her mouth full of bread. "Everyone is hushed, no laughter, no song. I've been to funerals for children more joyous than this place."

The mention of a funeral reminded Alexander of Simone. He wondered if her father decided to allow her proper funeral rites. He would have to ask Marcus about the outcome when he returned. Alexander felt a brief sadness wash over him. He thought of everything he had seen since he left over a week ago: The cities, the trains, the ships in the air and the sea, the great stone buildings that seemed like they could contain the whole of Croton within their walls, and the tens of thousands of people of all different types. He knew that excessive desire for novelty was a vice but it still saddened him to think that Simone dreamed of seeing all these things and the lands across the sea but died without ever leaving Croton.

"The reason there's always singing because you're always there, singing." Einar said before lifting his bowl to his mouth.

"Someone has to, otherwise our people will turn as dour as this lot." Katla said with a grin, glancing at Alexander. "Oh, it was just a joke. Does your rules forbid laughter as well?"

"No, the Philosopher teaches that humor has a virtue to be cultivated like any other thing. The virtue of wittiness is finding the right balance between being overly serious and being a buffoon. A clever remark or play on words or humorous story, all at the proper time and proper amount."

"This place!" Katla exclaimed. "Even your clowns must know more rules than our judges. Do you think anyone would object if I sang?"

Alexander blinked in surprise at the speed his companion changed topics. "I think people would be too shocked to ask you to stop, but we generally keep our singing to specific events that call for song."

"Ah." Katla said, shoulder slumping in disappointment. "No matter, I only know songs in Starklund anyways. I'll need to learn the words to some Tarid ones so I can sing without being flogged."

"Singing their songs as badly as you might get you flogged anyways."

"Can you believe my brother?" Katla said to Alexander with an exaggerated pout. "So mean to his sister. Are there rules in this country to force a brother to be kind?"

"Well, legally speaking-"

"It was a joke, Nar and me like to tease each other. Helps keep us humble, if Nar's head got any bigger he would start a new quarry everywhere he lay down to sleep. It was already explained to me when we arrived that your country's laws consider me Einar's property. Though he would keep in mind that I will feed him his own fingers if he isn't careful."

Katla raised her cup and gulped down the rest of her wine and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She looked around for a moment before leaning over to Alexander. "How does one ask for more drink in your country?"

"You don't." Alexander replied. "We take one cup of wine with meals for our health, people who drink more than that risk becoming drunkards."

"Just one?" Katla said as her face twisted in shock. "In Starklund, drinks are poured for as long as you can hold your cup steady enough for the tavernkeeper to pour into it. Just one?"

"Everything in the Empire is done in moderation. No wine results in poor health, too much wine also results in poor health but also poor decisions and uncontrolled tempers and the like."

"Does this law apply to what is done in your own home? When you are alone?"

"Well, no. Private vices are a matter for the individual to strive to correct, but the law only requires the intervention of the magistrates or the Inquisition if the vice begins to impact others."

"So we could have more than one cup at home as long as no one sees?"

"Legally, yes." Alexander said, hesitating. This was the first time someone had asked him, an Inquisitor, if it was alright to indulge in a vice of excess as long as she did it privately. It felt surreal but it was a welcome change from the people he had been around since he set out from Croton who were too afraid to even speak about the weather with him unless questioned directly.

"Good!" Katla nearly shouted with a broad grin on her face, ignoring the heads turning to stare at her. "If I thought I had to work all day at the forge and then have to slake my thirst with a single cup of wine, I would sprint down to the port and swim back to Starklund," she said in a voice that was quieter than before but still felt to Alexander like it was booming in the ears of every patron in the room.

"I'm tired, I'm going to sleep." She announced when finished the last of her soup. She stretched out on the floor up against the wall with her clothing sack as a pillow. Alexander just had time to sit on the floor a short distance from her when she began snoring. He looked at her for a moment in shock, then envied how quickly she was able to doze off. He didn't dare remove his armor and weapons out in the open like this. His gear was more finely made than anything a common soldier would wear but it was still not comfortable to wear for extended periods of time. Sleep would not come easy. He watched as Einar stretched out on the floor beside Katla, back turned to her and his head at her feet. Laid out side by side the man made his sister look tiny despite her own impressive height. Alexander closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come as easily for him as it did for Katla.