“In real life, my sweet poet,” the duke said as the swordsmen circled, “words can never be undone.” — Ellen Kushner

I’m the Duke of Riverside. I build things here and pretty much keep the peace, and discourage certain behaviors. If you think all that has been achieved through entirely civil and lawful means, you’ve had your head in a bucket.

Our theories stand. We both see clearly; we know what’s right. Even if it’s not always possible to act on it, don’t you think it matters to be able to call things by their true names?

“I thought I would be safe here.”

“You are.” For the first time, he touched her, touched her hand. “Safe from everything but paper and ink. Please. Put those down.”

“Paper and ink.” She clutched the books to her ample chest. “They’re not nothing, Alec. They’re pretty much everything to me: the embodiment of ideas, of thought—of free and open thought. Of inquiry and supposition. All of it.”