“Couldn’t handle the celibacy?”

“Leftward priests aren’t required to be celibate,” Dahl said, “but considering I was the only human at the seminary, I had celibacy thrust upon me, if you will.”

“Some people wouldn’t have let that stop them,” Duvall said.

“You haven’t seen a Forshan seminary student up close,” Dahl said. “Also, I don’t swing xeno.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right xeno,” Duvall said.

“I prefer humans,” Dahl said. “Call me boring.”

“Boring,” Duvall said, teasingly.

“And you’ve just pried into my personal preferences in land speed record time,” Dahl said. “If you’re this forward with someone you just met, I can only imagine what you’re like with people you’ve known for a long time.”

“Oh, I’m not like this with everyone,” Duvall said. “But I can tell I like you already. Anyway. Not a priest.”

“No. My technical status is ‘Foreign Penitent,’” Dahl said. “I was allowed to do the full course of study and perform some rites, but there were some physical requirements I would not have been able to perform for full ordination.”

“Like what?” Duvall asked.

“Self-impregnation, for one,” Dahl said.

“A small but highly relevant detail,” Duvall said.

“And here you were all concerned about celibacy,” Dahl said, and swigged from his drink.

“If you were never going to become a priest, why did you go to the seminary?” Duvall asked.

“I found the Forshan religion very restful,” Dahl said. “When I was younger that appealed to me. My parents died when I was young and I had a small inheritance, so I took it, paid tutors to learn the language and then traveled to Forshan and found a seminary that would take me. I planned to stay forever.”

“But you didn’t,” Duvall said. “I mean, obviously.”

Dahl smiled. “Well. I found the Forshan religion restful. I found the Forshan religious war less so.”