Asher snorted. "Maybe not, but at least you have a name. Emerson gave me mine." Regardless of her shame or misfortune, she still spoke like someone accustomed to the upper-class lifestyle, and that irked him. "I don't know what kind of good humor you're hoping to hear. Sevitel is in the middle of civil war, and I'm not any closer to my success because of it. What I seek is no easier found when hundreds clog the streets."

She wasn't wrong about the fire, however. The Enmorian winter had scarcely ended, and the early spring weather was still chilling and cold at night. After a second of more deliberation, he shifted to in front of the blaze, sitting beside the striking woman. "You don't have to worry about any trouble from me. I'm on borrowed time from the barkeep as is. Another patron and I had a little issue a few minutes before. I also have morals. And standards," He added the last bit as a jest. The night was too cold for so much misery."

"What's your plan in Enrimor?" He asked, partially to distract her if she took offense from his statement.