My great great uncle was a warder at an asylum in Torval (maybe he was my great great great uncle—it was quite a long time ago), and this is the story that has been passed down in my family from his generation to mine. Perhaps it is purely apocryphal, but when I was told it, it was whispered in such a way that it was meant to be taken seriously. Not having any children of my own to whisper to, and being in need of some gold, I have elected to publish my story. The Emperor just stared.