“I didn’t!” Dite protested. “No,” said the king. “I did.” “Why?” Dite asked, helplessly. “Why?” “I didn’t drink any of the filthy stuff,” the king snapped. “Dite, I don’t need quinalums to give me nightmares; they come on their own. The gods send them to keep me humble.” There was no stroke of humility about him, and if Costis had ever wished to see him look more like a king, his wish was answered.
