No foreword, and no epilogue. Just like that place of exiled convicts he's in charge of, standing there silently at the bottom of the sea. Some have lauded His Grace's aptitude for taking care of thorny problems. Hearing such praise, Wriothesley would simply lower his teacup... and pick up his newspaper. "You've got the wrong end of the stick. They just wanted somewhere to lead well-ordered lives, and I gave them the 'tranquility' they required."