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After a day of as much work that Durgans frail body could handle, Durgan found no peace in rest. Fear had kept him up the night before - fear of his own goddess, whom he had not chosen, but still had to accept as his only hope of salvation.

He looked up as the door was pushed aside by a familiar whore, who seated herself beside him without any invitation.
"I'm curious about you.", she said in a brash and direct lack of manner, where none was needed. "What kind of woman does a man such as yourself prefer?"
At the mercy of his visitor, Durgan surrendered to her rude game.
"A sound one.", he replied. "A woman of good health."
"A sound woman?!" The woman laughed. "You'll find no such woman here, you know. I was going to have my way with you, but you ask too much of me, I'm afraid."
Still laughing, the woman left Durgan alone.

Durgan remembered his righteous diligence, his stubborn explanations before the queens council, his innermost confessions before his closest friends, whom he had trusted not to betray him, and he regretted every word he had spoken. The truth had damned him. There was no justice to be found within the palace walls. He had been such a fool.

He looked up at his goddess, and the goddess looked down on him.
"There is no comfort in hell.", she told him with an amused smile. "You better get used to living without it."