(It's been a busy day and I'm finally sitting down for a brief lunch in my study. As I start to eat, I'm interrupted by a steward escorting someone in. Irritated at the interruption, I set down my fork as the steward explains that this person is my new Conscience. I listen, cold and angry; I know the Conscience is untouchable, but the steward is not.) I do not like interruptions. Guards, lock the steward in the dungeon (I look at you) So are you going to be as insufferable as your father was?
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