would follow in his footsteps, and so did everyone else. And I ... wasn't strong enough to fight them. Your grandparents were both very . . . forceful personalities. I never was. I did what was expected of me, because it was easier that way. Story of my life, really. I knew from the start you weren't going to be anything like James. He studied hard to be King, because he wanted it. I never did figure out what you wanted. So in the end, I settled for raising you to be as tough-minded and independent as I could. To be nothing like me. So that when you finally came to the Throne, at least you'd bring something new to it. In many ways, you're a lot like your grandfather.
"You will be King, Douglas; because I want it, because Parliament wants it, and most important of all, because the people want it."
"And what I want doesn't matter?" said Douglas.
"The best person to wield power is the man who doesn't want it," said William. "The blessed Deathstalker said that. Supposedly. What will you do, Douglas, once you are King? Have you considered the matter at all?"
"Of course I have!" Douglas stopped himself sharply. This was far too public a place for raised voices and an open row, but somehow his father's goading always pushed Douglas's temper to the edge. He made himself breathe steadily for a few moments before continuing. "I've thought about nothing else for months. And I'll tell you this: if I'm going to be King, I'm going to be King. I won't just sit around, nodding my head to whatever Parliament says. I'll not be anyone's rubber stamp. Everyone says this is a Golden Age, and maybe it does look all bright and shiny from up here; but as a Paragon, I saw the darker side of things. I saw people suffering every day, at the hands of villains who got away as often as not, because I was just one man and I couldn't be everywhere. Well, what I couldn't put right as a Paragon, maybe I can fix as King."
William surprised Douglas then, by nodding cheerfully in agreement. "Well done, Douglas. Well said. A little naive, but good intentioned. That attitude is why I pulled every string I had, called in every favor owed to me, to get you made a Paragon. James was a good boy, and well intentioned too, but he never raised his head out of his books. I wanted you out in the city, among the people, seeing the things they won't let me see. I wanted you to see the Empire not as a King's son, but as one of the people who make it work. I'm glad to see my efforts weren't wasted. You don't want to give up being a Paragon, do you, boy?"
"No," said Douglas. "No, I don't."
"Then be a Paragon on a Throne," said William. "The Crown may not have any real power, but it still has
influence. You don't have to care about political niceties, such as whether backing an unpopular position might interfere with you getting reelected. You can say the right thing, the necessary thing, and to hell with what's expedient. You can still get things done, if you care enough. My problem was ... I never did care enough, about most things. I drifted through my life, always following the path of least resistance. Hell of a thing to say about a life as long as mine, but there you go. I don't care. Perhaps . . . because so many people so badly wanted me to care . . ."
"Father . . ."
"I cared about your mother, about James, and about you; and that's all. Your mother and James are gone, so that just leaves you. And you . . . are everything I wished I could be and never was. Passionate, committed, honorable. I'm proud of you, son."
Douglas just nodded numbly, too surprised even to say anything in return. King William looked out over his Court.
"Be King, Douglas. Do the right thing, as often as you can. They won't love you for it. They'll adore you from a distance, but that doesn't mean anything. They only ever love the symbol, the public face, not the person underneath. In the end, they only remember the things you didn't do that you promised you would, or the things they think