He hated speaking at events such as this. Fundraisers, charities, were all necessary means to an end, and required to keep up his image. The Habiri Church’s dressing room was clean and orderly, if not sparse. He reminded himself he only had to take up fifteen minutes on stage and then he could be done. “I need a drink,” he said. His attendant froze. “What do you desire, my Shiemir?” His lean features curdled as he waited for an answer. Ever obedient, the man would find whatever Enrue asked for, whether it was in the best interest of Taraf or not. Such loyalty both pleased and disgusted the Shiemir. “Fury, but it can wait until I’m back in my room, Robert.” He glanced around the tight space. “Sure is dark here.” “The Habiri believe it soothes the soul.” Robert held the door open for him. He exited, thinking the darkness was not acceptable or soothing at all. The wide hall leading to the stage was devoid of decoration. The crowd had gathered already, and their garbled voices echoed all around Enrue.
