In the afternoon, the king and queen sat to hear the business of their kingdom. At least, the queen sat to hear the business; Costis was still not sure what the king was doing.

Dying would have been so much easier.

I knew I would be in the story somewhere," Eugenides interjected. "Oh no," said Phresine, "This was a humble servant." "Ouch." "Though very courageous." "Not me," whispered Eugenides to his pillow.

You're awake," he said. "Phresine is not," pointed out the queen. "Oh?" "You gave her lethium." "She gave it to me first.

He lies to himself. If Eugenides talked in his sleep, he'd lie then, too.

The window opened in the same direction as the king's, and there, summer-bright and framed by the darkness of the stairwell, was the same view. Costis passed it, and then went back up the stairs to look again. There were only the roofs of the lower part of the palace and the town and the city walls. Beyond those were the hills on the far side of the Tustis Valley and the faded blue sky above them. It wasn't what the king saw that was important, it was what he couldn't see when he sat at the window with his face turned toward Eddis.

He couldn't offend the gods with a pointed stick.