One morning Hans Westergard found himself walking along a street in downtown Southern Isles. He could not explain what he was doing there, or how he got there, or where he had been earlier. He didn't even know whether love was an open or closed door.
He saw a woman walking toward him and stopped her. "I'm afraid I forgot my pocket-watch," he said, and smoothed his sideburns. "Can you tell me the time?" When she saw him, she screamed and ran.
Then Hans Westergard noticed that other people were afraid of him. When they saw him coming, they flattened themselves against a building or ran across the street to stay out of his way.
"Something feels cold with me," Hans thought. "I'd better go home."
He hailed a carriage, but the driver took one look at him and sped away with his horse.
Hans did not understand what was going on, and it scared him. "Maybe somebody at home can come and get me," he thought. He sent a carrier pigeon to his father, the king. But the reply letter was written in handwriting he did not recognize.
"Is the king there?" Hans had written in his letter.
"No, he is overseeing the cleanup of a corpse," the reply letter said. "Princes Hans Westergard was executed yesterday by guillotine."
