Edmund has watched his father try to plot the past and futures of everyone around him like points on a map his whole life; and he’s finally sick of it. It’s even worse than a map; even the four-dimensional chess of drawing connections over the surface of a globe, like Edmund would do if he believed in fate and other nonsense, would imply some degree of agency. No, the Duke of Gloucester uses an orrery to claim that the stars control their character and the most anyone can do is trace the path that’s already been set out for them, so Edmund counters by tracing one of his own.