He had tried for so long to rule wisely, and well, and to be a good monarch, but it is hard to rule, and wisdom can be painful. And it is impossible, he had found, if you rule, to do only good, for you cannot build anything without tearing something down, and even he could not care about every life, every dream, every population of every world. Bit by bit, moment by moment, death by little death, he ceased to care. He would not die, for only inferior people died, and he was the inferior of no one. Time passed. One day, in the deep dungeons, a man with blood on his face looked at the Duke and
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