It had been a long time ago, when life had been less complex. Or, perhaps, it had only seemed less complex. - Michael Kurland

A dead man, Sir Moses," Lord Darcy told him.
"Remember, young man, he isn't dead until I say he's dead," Sir Moses said. He pushed Lord Darcy aside and stepped over to the throne. He stared down at Master Sorcerer Dandro Bittman.
"This man is dead," Sir Moses said.
"Indeed he is, Sir Moses," Master Sean said, coming up behind him. "And that's something that neither you with your bone cutting nor I with my spells, nor the finest healer with the most sensitive hands in the kingdom, can do aught about.

So, his Slavonic Majesty hires thieves to spy for him. Spying is such a foul business that I am surprised that even a good Angevin thief would stoop to it." He turned to Lord Peter with a sudden realization. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to imply—"
"That's all right, Your Highness," Lord Peter said. "It's a common reaction. Their spies are dirty, filthy scum, not fit to wipe your boots on, while our spies are noble gentlemen doing dangerous work for the love of King and Country. Would that it were so, Your Highness, but I'm afraid that sometimes the desired image is at fault—in both directions.

“I’ve been taught certain things all my life,” she said. “Just as you have. I’m just as much a prisoner of my training and my environment as you are of yours.”
“I never thought that I was,” Carl said.
Alyssaunde took his hand. “Neither did I,” she said.