Nobody's Prize Quotes

“I nearly didn’t recognize Milo. I saw a tall, strong-limbed young man with long, gleaming curls and a neatly trimmed beard. His bright blue and green tunic was banded with rich red and gold, a far cry from the cast-off garments he’d been forced to dress in before. He was hard at work, spreading out all manner of glittering wares at Father’s feet, when he looked up at me, and all at once I knew him again. I couldn’t help uttering a cry of delight. If he hadn’t been holding an especially fine vase in his hands just then, I think I would have rushed into his arms.
“Well, well,” Father remarked fondly. “I think our daughter has seen something she likes.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I pray Aphrodite will help him find someone who loves him as much as he loves her.”
“That’s a good prayer.” Father gave me a hug and stood up. “Now let’s find her shrine, and make sure she hears it.”
I smiled sadly. “Don’t the gods hear our prayers wherever we are?”
“Yes, but I think it’s best to speak with them in their own houses and bring them a little gift when you really want them to pay attention to what you’ve got to say.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I almost feel sorry for that man,” Telys’s mother said one evening as we made camp. “I think he loves you very much. He’s breaking his heart over you, child.”
“Is that supposed to make me love him? Suppose I did marry him, just because he wouldn’t stop pestering me until I gave in. Imagine that another man arrives, years later, and he’s breaking his heart over me as well. What am I supposed to do then? Run away with the new pest?” I shook my head. “Is love just a matter of badgering someone until you get your own way, like a spoiled child? If that’s so, Aphrodite ought to carry a hammer as a warning.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“That was close,” I whispered to Telys as we all walked down the path to the heart of the city. “For a while, I was afraid I’d have to use this.” I patted the familiar weight on my left hip. I had my sword at my waist again, hidden beneath my cloak.
“You sound more regretful than relieved, Telys joked. “If that man had challenged us, you’d have given him a fight to remember.”
“I did not want to fight my way out,” I said vehemently. But in truth, this wasn’t how I’d pictured my escape from the citadel. In my more fanciful moments, I’d imagined the clash of swords, the shouts of soldiers, the rumble of running feet, maybe even the reek of smoke and the crackle of fire.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“The place I have in mind is always deserted. No one likes to go there. They think the place is haunted by the old king’s spirit.”
“Theseus’s warriors fear ghosts?” I wanted to laugh.
“Lord Kekrops’s ghost is different. He was a dragon from the waist down.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Better that than from the waist up, I suppose.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Are you trying to make me jealous, my pretty bird?” Theseus asked, teasing. He took one of the filled wine goblets from the cupbearer attending him and tried to give it to me. I turned my shoulder to him deliberately. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off Telys. What will it take to make you spare just one of those sweet glances for me? Shall I step onto the training ground myself?”
“Only if you’ll let me be the one to fight you, sword against sword,” I replied. “I’m willing to stake my freedom on the match.”
His lips twisted into a mocking smile. “And risk damaging that face? In four days’ time, we’ll be married. I intend to have a queen whose beauty makes me the envy of all.” He tried to stroke my cheek. I jerked my head back.
“Don’t worry, Theseus,” I said. “If we fight, I won’t be the one who’ll take away a scar. But if you’re afraid, name one of your men to match swords with me.” I swept the training ground with my eyes and in a loud, carrying voice added: “Or are all the men of Athens scared to fight a Spartan girl?”
A grumbling ran through the ranks of the assembled guardsmen. My barb hit the target and sunk in deep. Theseus didn’t like the way things were going. He tried to pull the fangs from my challenge by turning it into a joke.
“Ha! I know what you’re after, Helen. You’re hoping I’ll say yes to this mad proposal of yours, then you’ll find some sly, womanly way to fix it so that you fight Telys. There’s an easy win for anyone!”
I looked into his leering face and decided I’d seen enough of the cold malice everyone in the palace inflicted on Telys. The soldiers, the servants, and even the slaves were all a yapping pack of hounds following the lead of Theseus, the nastiest cur of them all. I leaped to my feet and shouted, “You worm! If you’re too scared to fight me yourself, then say so!”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Suddenly the hall rang with Theseus’s laughter. He held his sides, threw back his head, and brayed. “Ah, Lady Helen, the gods have been more than good to you. The three Graces gave you a face to outshine the sun, then filled your lovely mouth with these bursts of comical nonsense. We should be grateful to them. It’s all that keeps us poor mortal men from mistaking you for a goddess.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“You’re terrified that my father will hear that you’ve taken me prisoner. No Spartan woman marries a coward!”
“Watch your tongue,” Theseus growled, his hands clenched. If he hit me, I’d hit him back, no matter how bad a beating I got for it. I would not surrender.
“Or what? Will you kill me? Go ahead and try. If you succeed, you lose what you really want to gain from this marriage. If I die, I take the Spartan crown with me into Hades’ kingdom. Better that than let you get your filthy hands on it!”
He took a step forward. I held my ground, shifting my weight just a bit and grabbing hold of my skirt. I’d changed my mind. If he gave the slightest sign that he intended to strike me, I wouldn’t wait for the blow to land. I’d jerk up the hem of my gown and kick him so hard that--!
Suddenly the hall rang with Theseus’s laughter. He held his sides, threw back his head, and brayed. “Ah, Lady Helen, the gods have been more than good to you. The three Graces gave you a face to outshine the sun, then filled your lovely mouth with these bursts of comical nonsense. We should be grateful to them. It’s all that keeps us poor mortal men from mistaking you for a goddess.”
He turned his back on me and returned to his throne. From there he proclaimed, “As a reward for amusing me so well, I’m going to give the lady Helen her own lodging in the palace and her very own attendant to be responsible for her every wish, her every whim, and above all, her every movement. Now who deserves such a prize?” His eyes closed and a mean smile twisted his lips. “Telys.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“By my third try, Lady Aithra had lost her patience and brought me to stand before her son while he was in conference with a group of hard-faced Athenian nobles. I smiled unashamedly when she called me willful, wild, and ungrateful, which provoked her so much that she actually dared to declare, “My son, you must not marry this girl. I don’t care how beautiful she is, she’ll bring us nothing but grief and leave Athens in flames!”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I brought him here,” he said, eager to claim credit for whatever had so overjoyed his king. “I caught him making a sacrifice to Lord Hades at your shrine, my lord Theseus, and when I tried to stop him--”
Theseus’s laughter crushed Telys’s weak attempt at boasting. “We all know what happened when you tried to stop him, you clown,” he said, wiping his eyes. “The whole palace is talking about how you were bested by a mere boy. Well, the truth is even better.”
He was off the throne and across the floor in an instant, scattering everyone who stood between him and me. He bounded behind me, grabbed the waist of my tunic with both hands, and yanked it back, hard. I’d relied on the looseness of my clothing to hide my breasts, small as they were, but now the thin cloth pulled taut against every line of my body. I might as well have been wearing nothing at all. I heard the onlookers gasp.
“Why aren’t you smiling, Telys?” Theseus leered as he confronted the horror-struck young guard. “You ought to be glad. You weren’t beaten by a boy after all.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Glaucus had taught me to choose my battles, and to choose them wisely. I chose not to fight this one. Not yet. Great Apollo, I prayed, let your healing powers help and sustain Milo until I can be with him again.
We entered the royal stronghold, greeted by loud catcalls. Apparently all of the guards knew about what had happened to Telys. As soon as they laid eyes on me, he found himself walking through a gauntlet of hecklers.
“That’s who took your spear? He’s an infant!”
“How’d he beat you, Telys? Trip you with his cradle?”
“Hey, for all you know, the baby didn’t take the spear. Telys probably loaned it to him so he’d have something to teethe on.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“How dare you?” I said, all ice. “You coward, how dare you do this? If you wanted to reclaim your honor, you should have come to me alone, like a man.”
The young guard bit his lips, his thickly blemished face going red, but his helpers roared with laughter. “Hey, Telys, you said this pup was a stranger, but it sounds like he knows you well enough!” one of them exclaimed.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“At least we’ll sail off with a memory of how happy you look tonight.”
“I am happy. You-know-who isn’t here.” I rolled my eyes in the direction of Medea’s empty chair. “I hear she’s got a headache. It must be a big one, to keep her away from seeing Lord Aetes honor her precious hero.”
“Orpheus tells me she approached him about making a praise-song recounting how Jason won the Golden Fleece. You should have heard the wild ideas she wanted him to include! Fire-breathing oxen with bronze hooves, dragon’s teeth that sprout into hosts of fully armed men, an unsleeping monster guarding the Fleece--”
“As if he needs her help with making imaginary monsters!” I smiled. “The closest thing I saw to a sleeping monster was one old priest, napping near the temple to Ares.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Now, Polydeuces, let her be,” Castor said, hugging me again. “Look at that face! Her brow’s all creased with worry, and for nothing. As if our little sister would ever give her heart to anyone less than a prince! As if a slave’s child could ever raise an army to take Sparta!”
I whirled out from under Castor’s arm. “Milo is no slave, and he’s worth ten princes!”
Castor sucked in his breath sharply and looked to Polydeuces. “All right, now I’m worried,” he said.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I’d say that of the two choices, Helen will be safest if she finds her own way back.”
“A girl traveling alone on a voyage that long?” Castor protested.
“I’ve done it before,” I reminded him. “Not as a girl.”
“Yes, well, er, a few things have changed about you since then.” His face turned a little red.
“I know how to count days and watch the changing of the moon,” I replied. “I won’t be taken by surprise again, even if I have to spend every day of the voyage wearing a--”
“All right, all right, I believe you!” Poor Castor couldn’t wait to drop the subject. “You’ll travel as a boy again. Fine.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Why are you talking about Milo and me as if I weren’t here?” I asked angrily. “What are you afraid will happen between us? Half the Argonauts believe it already did, but that doesn’t make it so.”
“Not yet,” Castor said. “People change, especially on a long voyage.”
“Why does this matter so much to you?”
“Because now, Helen, you can have a child,” Polydeuces replied. He lifted my chin gently. “You are the next ruler of Sparta. The man you marry will be Sparta’s king, and your children will rule our land after you. If you have a baby now, that child could grow up to challenge your other children for the throne. Sparta’s enemies would be only too happy to help that child raise an army, then swoop down on our lands in the wake of the war and devour anything that remains. When you’re dead, do you want to leave your people peace or chaos?”
I didn’t have to give him an answer. We both knew it.
“Now, Polydeuces, let her be,” Castor said, hugging me again. “Look at that face! Her brow’s all creased with worry, and for nothing. As if our little sister would ever give her heart to anyone less than a prince! As if a slave’s child could ever raise an army to take Sparta!”
I whirled out from under Castor’s arm. “Milo is no slave, and he’s worth ten princes!”
Castor sucked in his breath sharply and looked to Polydeuces. “All right, now I’m worried,” he said.
“Either you trust me or you don’t,” I said. “That’s your only worry. I’ve made my decision. I’m going to the waterfront, I’m praying to Poseidon that I’ll find the ship I need, and I’m going home. As a boy. With Milo.”
My brothers smiled. “It’s good to see you so confident again.” Polydeuces said. “But not too confident to reject some help from your devoted brothers?”
I threw my arms around their necks. “Never.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I’d say that of the two choices, Helen will be safest if she finds her own way back.”
“A girl traveling alone on a voyage that long?” Castor protested.
“I’ve done it before,” I reminded him. “Not as a girl.”
“Yes, well, er, a few things have changed about you since then.” His face turned a little red.
“I know how to count days and watch the changing of the moon,” I replied. “I won’t be taken by surprise again, even if I have to spend every day of the voyage wearing a--”
“All right, all right, I believe you!” Poor Castor couldn’t wait to drop the subject. “You’ll travel as a boy again. Fine.”
“And Milo will come with me, so I won’t be making the journey alone,” I said.
My brothers exchanged a doubtful look. “She does insist that they’re only friends,” Polydeuces said.
“So far,” Castor remarked. “The boy’s young, but not that young. Have you looked at him lately? I wager that by the time he reaches Sparta, he’ll have a thicker beard than Father’s.”
“Why are you talking about Milo and me as if I weren’t here?” I asked angrily. “What are you afraid will happen between us? Half the Argonauts believe it already did, but that doesn’t make it so.”
“Not yet,” Castor said. “People change, especially on a long voyage.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Where have you been, Milo?” I asked quietly. “It’s been three days.”
“Working for Jason,” Milo replied, his voice low.
I frowned, setting the arrow to the bow. Anyone watching us would think I was the world’s most cautious shot. “Doing what?” My muscles strained as I pulled the bowstring back.
“Protecting you.”
The bowstring released with a loud twang, and the arrow arced through the air, barely grazing the top of the target before falling to the earth beyond it. A few of the men practicing with javelins saw my miss and called out that I’d find a spindle easier to manage than a bow. I snatched up a second arrow and buried it fletch-deep in the core of the target. The jeering stopped. Only then did I return my attention to Milo.
“That makes no sense,” I muttered. “In the first place, what protection do I need? And since when does Jason care about anyone’s skin but his own?”
“There may be more to Jason than you think,” Milo said softly.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I soon set Castor’s mind at ease about how I’d protect my borrowed identity. To stave off any challenges I couldn’t handle, the first thing I did was issue a challenge of my own against any man who wanted to try his luck besting me in a footrace. I beat five men, including Kalais, a so-called son of Boreas, the North Wind. No one else challenged me for the rest of the morning. What man wanted to risk losing to a woman in front of all his friends?”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“By the way, where are all the men?” I asked.
“The ones who aren’t busy bothering the serving girls are practicing their battle skills with Lord Aetes’ guards. There’s a training ground, but it’s a fair distance from the citadel. I think the palace weapons bearers get more exercise than the men, carrying their gear there and back.”
“Except for one lazybones who’s hiding in the queen’s garden instead of doing his proper work. Poor Iolaus! This is the thanks he gets for hiring you.” I was teasing, and Milo knew it.
“And what about a weapons bearer so lazy that he’d rather turn into a girl than do his job?” Milo countered, laughing.
I stood up. “A girl who can carry two amphorae of wine to your one,” I said.
“One to my three, you mean!” Milo declared, getting into the spirit. “But you’ll have to find them first.” He made a taunting face at me and darted into the palace.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“His time aboard the Argo had been good to him. He’d put on healthy weight and gained a sense of confidence. He no longer looked as if he feared to wake up one day and find that his freedom was only a dream. “I’ll see what I can find, then,” he said. “There were plenty of amphorae in the crew’s sleeping chambers this morning, wine and water both.”
“Do you think there’s any left?”
“Water or wine?” He grinned.
“By the way, where are all the men?” I asked.
“The ones who aren’t busy bothering the serving girls are practicing their battle skills with Lord Aetes’ guards. There’s a training ground, but it’s a fair distance from the citadel. I think the palace weapons bearers get more exercise than the men, carrying their gear there and back.”
“Except for one lazybones who’s hiding in the queen’s garden instead of doing his proper work. Poor Iolaus! This is the thanks he gets for hiring you.” I was teasing, and Milo knew it.
“And what about a weapons bearer so lazy that he’d rather turn into a girl than do his job?” Milo countered, laughing.
I stood up. “A girl who can carry two amphorae of wine to your one,” I said.
“One to my three, you mean!” Milo declared, getting into the spirit. “But you’ll have to find them first.” He made a taunting face at me and darted into the palace.
I raced after him gladly, our laughter echoing through the halls. We had a few near collisions with Lord Aetes’ slaves and servants, and drew our fair share of outraged curses from stuffy palace officials, but it felt so good to run! Milo soon forgot all about going back to the crew’s chambers to search for those amphorae. He ran right past the doorway and didn’t give it a glance. Though my dress hindered me and my sword slapped against my left leg at every stride, I was enjoying myself.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I was overjoyed to spy Milo among them. He caught sight of me and came running to the doorway. “Glau--I mean, Hel--Atalanta, there you are! I--” He dropped his voice sharply so that no one else could hear him say, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said as I led him off. The other men catcalled after us, but we ignored them.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“You must be there with me, Atalanta. I wouldn’t be able to say a word if I was alone with him. And we must see him secretly. If my father knew, he’d lock me up again.”
Again? I wanted to ask what she meant, but with Medea, perhaps there were some riddles better left unanswered.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“You come from his lands. You know what women there do to attract a man. You will teach me.”
I didn’t like the way our conversation was going. Even though she kept her voice soft and coaxing, she wasn’t asking for my help, she was demanding it. “Lady Medea, I don’t know about such things.”
“You wouldn’t need to, would you?” Now her expression was hard and bitter. Her moods shifted at a frightening rate, and my apprehension grew with each change. “You don’t need to do anything but breathe and the men flock to you, ready to die for your sake.”
“That’s not true. You heard how I came here. No one questioned my disguise for an instant.” Except Argus, I reminded myself. And perhaps Orpheus too, though he never came out and said anything about it directly. But she doesn’t need to hear that.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“Now, my honored guests, tell me all about yourselves. I have heard that your ship carries no cargo, so I know you’re not traders. Surely you didn’t undertake a voyage solely to restore my grandson to his family?”
It was Jason’s moment to shine, and he seized it. He introduced each of us, somehow making it sound as if we owed some part of our fame to him. When he presented me as “Atalanta, the heroine of the Calydonian boar hunt,” he took pride in describing my initial masquerade as a weapons bearer. “That was all my idea. I wanted the great huntress to share in this adventure, but she was afraid of what would happen if the crew knew she was a woman.” If the real Atalanta had been there to hear it, she would have taught him a hard lesson at the point of a boar spear.
“Is that so?” Lord Aetes studied me where I stood. “She doesn’t look like the fearful type.”
“I’m not,” I said firmly. “But you know how it is with sailors, Lord Aetes: The truth never gets in the way of a good story.” I ignored Jason’s dark scowl.
The Colchian king laughed out loud. “You look very young to be so bold. Medea! Take Atalanta to your own quarters and see to her comfort.”
Lord Aetes’ daughter looked stricken. “Now?” Her glance darted from her father, to me, to Jason, where I was surprised to see it linger.
The king glowered at her. “What’s wrong with you? You heard me!”
“I--I only wanted to hear more of our honored guests, Father. They haven’t told you why they’ve come to Colchis yet.” Her voice sounded strained, as if she weren’t used to putting up the mildest argument.
“If that turns out to be any business of yours, you’ll be told. Now go, before you shame yourself in front of our guests any further.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“My beloved grandson, I thank the gods for the joy of seeing your face again before I die. I wish with all my heart that you’d come back to us sooner.”
Argus smiled, but made no move to approach his grandfather. “You’ll have to forgive me for staying away so long, Lord Aetes. As dearly as I love you, the idea of being put to death on my return to Aea kept me away. It’s a trivial thing, the fear of losing one’s life, but it means a lot to me.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“My beloved grandson, I thank the gods for the joy of seeing your face again before I die. I wish with all my heart that you’d come back to us sooner.”
Argus smiled, but made no move to approach his grandfather. “You’ll have to forgive me for staying away so long, Lord Aetes. As dearly as I love you, the idea of being put to death on my return to Aea kept me away. It’s a trivial thing, the fear of losing one’s life, but it means a lot to me.”
Lord Aetes scowled. “Your father, Phrixus, was wrong to exile you, but every man has the right to rule his own family. I thought Phrixus was unjust, but I couldn’t intercede. I had a good reason.” He didn’t elaborate.
“A very good one, no doubt,” Argus drawled. “Is it going to be good enough to justify executing me now that I’m back?”
The king shook his head. “Your father and stepmother are both dead. Any quarrel you had with them is over. Your innocence and honor are not to be questioned by any man who owes me allegiance. All of your rights as a royal prince of Colchis are hereby restored.”
“All of my rights?” Argus echoed. “You mean my stepbrother, Karos, is dead, too?” Lord Aetes didn’t answer. Argus stroked his beard. “I see. Well, won’t he be thrilled to learn that he’s going to have to share his inheritance.”
“There will be peace between my grandsons,” Lord Aetes stated, gritting his teeth. “I will not have it otherwise. Did you come here to vex me, or to rejoin your family?”
Argus’s laughter danced with the smoke and sparks rising from the fire pit. He strode around the hearth and embraced the king. “My apologies, Grandfather, but can you blame me for snapping? Look at the two of us. My years of exile have aged me so that we could pass for brothers!”
Lord Aetes smiled and returned Argus’s hug. “That’s over now. We’ll soon have you looking your proper age.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I’ll never call you ‘girl’ again,” Argus said to me. “A woman twice your age would envy your cunning!”
“If I were still ‘Glaucus,’ you’d say I was smart or clever, not cunning,” I chided him.
“Pfff! What does one little word matter?”
“So you won’t mind if I call the Argo a ferryboat?” I replied sweetly.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“What are you saying, Argus?” Jason came out of the darkness like a murdered man’s ghost. “I heard you mention my name.”
“Only telling Atalanta here about your own exploits as a hunter,” Argus said as naturally as if it were true. “You ought to show her that leopard-skin trophy of yours. It’s a beauty.”
“There’ll be time enough to show her that later.” Jason tried to look annoyed, but I could tell that Argus’s smooth talk had flattered him. “When I choose to do it, not when you try to send me off on an errand. I still lead this venture, not you.”
I hated his arrogant attitude toward Argus, to whom he owed so much, but there was little I could do about it. The best I could manage was a ruse to divert him. “A leopard skin?” I put the proper note of awe into my voice. “You should wear it when Lord Aetes summons us to his hall. One look at such a prize and he’ll know who our leader is without asking!”
“You think that will be necessary?” Jason growled, giving Argus a hard, resentful stare.
I pretended I hadn’t heard that. “A leopard! Not even Herakles could boast such a kill. He wore a lion’s pelt, but brute strength’s all you need to slay one of those beasts. You need strength and brains to overcome a leopard.”
“Would you really like to see the pelt?” Jason asked eagerly. I nodded. “For you, then, honored huntress,” he said in a low, honeyed voice. He leaped back aboard the Argo with so much vigor that Argus had to bite his lips to hold back the laughter.
“I’ll never call you ‘girl’ again,” Argus said to me. “A woman twice your age would envy your cunning!”
“If I were still ‘Glaucus,’ you’d say I was smart or clever, not cunning,” I chided him.
“Pfff! What does one little word matter?”
“So you won’t mind if I call the Argo a ferryboat?” I replied sweetly.”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize

“I am Prince Jason of Iolkos, and my business here is with your king.”
“Iolkos?” The lead spearman repeated the name in a way that showed he’d never heard of it. “What would my lord Aetes have to do with Iolkos, wherever that is? If that’s your only claim to an audience with the king--”
Argus made an impatient noise. “Since when does Lord Aetes need the likes of you to decide who he’ll want to see? Or has his kingdom become so poor that he can no longer afford a little bread and salt for his own kin?”
The spearman goggled at Argus. “Are you claiming kinship to Lord Aetes, old man?”
“I look older than I am, fool, just as you’ll look the worse for wear when my grandfather finds out you insulted me. I’m Argus, son of Phrixus and the royal lady Nera, Lord Aetes’ eldest daughter by his chief wife. Do you recognize my name, or were you whelped yesterday, pup?”
The spearman’s mouth flattened. “You were banished.”
“So I was. Yet here I am. Now use the mind the gods gave you. Ask yourself why any sane man would risk his life by defying an order of exile. What could be so crucial that I’d be willing to put my own blood in the balance for it, eh?” He clapped the spearman on the back before the man could react and concluded, “Don’t you think Lord Aetes might want to know the answer to that, too?”
― Esther M. Friesner, Nobody's Prize