To my son, Tristan,
heir to a broken world, but with the tools to fix it.
With all my love.
Four voices just audible in the hush of any Christmas:
Accept my friendship or die.
I shall keep order and not very much will happen.
Bring me luck and of course I’ll support you.
I smell blood and an era of prominent madmen.
“Fin de siecle,” murmured Lord Henry.
“Fin du globe,” answered his hostess.
“I wish it were fin du globe,” said Dorian with a sigh.
“Life is such a great disappointment.”