“My father used to speak to me often of the nature of power,” Veradis said. “One of the things he often lamented was that the only folk truly worthy to hold it were those who did not seek it.” Isana frowned. “I don’t understand.” Veradis smiled, and for a moment there was nothing solemn or sad in her face. Isana was struck by the young woman’s delicate beauty. “I know you don’t,” she said. “Thus proving my father’s point.”
