Snippet #1434482

Soren took the glass of water and gulped it down gratefully, trying to cool the burning sensation in his lungs. Ughhh...that's annoying...and today of all days, too... Hadn't the Queen said something about a masquerade ball that evening? A ball at which his engagement with Lyra San'Drelon was to be announced? Damn those Italians and their need for partying...things wouldn't be so troubling if those dance-loving ambassadors weren't visiting. Even worse, Soren had been planning to conduct several crucial business conversations that day; he had only barely managed to squeeze them in his schedule before the ball.

All down the drain. And if he didn't attend the ball, the Queen would be on him like a rattlesnake- and Soren didn't think he could risk falling even further from favor. He sank back onto his pillow with a sigh, covering his eyes with a hand. "James," he mumbled, "you're supposed to know a lot. What are the chances that I make a miraculous recovery before seven tonight?"