Chapter 52
Ilyrian Vaeris, il Tsaen, Lord of Storn, rubbed his eyes helplessly, looking to the dial that hung in one corner of the room for the umpteenth time that hour. To his chagrin the long hand of the dial had only moved a few degrees upward, and the meeting was no closer to being over. He stifled a groan at the thought that he would have to endure forty more minutes of his half-brother and that woman whining in his ear like overly persistent flies, but he could do nothing but endure. When he tuned back into the conversation his brother was still speaking. It was not much of an effort to connect the dots and catch up. After all, Orien had been going on and on about that same topic for weeks now. “…look, I don’t wish death upon my niece. You know that,” the slightly overweight man said with wha
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