This school has been here for a while, so the rules are pretty well set. If we start letting the wealthy, famous, or even the married, live on their own and do their own thing, then we end up with everyone else thinking they should be allowed to as well. It's happened before, and caused massive problems, so this isn't just some rule being enforced because “it's always been that way” or anything foolish like that.” The man shrugged and put both hands on the bed to push himself up, readying to stand.

“I don't want to be mean, but the tradition is that way for a reason. I hope you'll understand? Now, if you wish to use your own lodgings on your off days, or even after classes, you may, but you're required to sleep in your room on any regular school day. I know that I won't have a problem with you personally, but for those with you, please remind them that failure to do so means expulsion. It's a bit harsh, I know, but with noble children and young adults, we've found that fines just don't work for some reason. They eventually start to look at them as mere rent on poor behaviors.” The expression on the weathered face went wry then, telling him that to a lot of the students there, a few silver or gold coins just didn't mean that much all the time.

Tor looked down, feeling ridiculously young again suddenly. Not that he was old, but coming back as a fourth year student was harder than he'd thought it would be. Of course having taken a seat on the floor probably wasn't all that brilliant a move either. His behind hurt now and getting up would look awkward. Well, at least he wore regular school browns, heavy canvas that was both durable and about as un-stylish as you could get. By doing so it didn’t look like he was flaunting wealth or anything. At least it looked that way on the surface. It was really just a magical device that he'd made that approximated clothing and let the wearer pick what they wanted to have on with an incredible range.