When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Chapter 8 Perrin had the drawings spread down the entire length of her workbench. She’d had to get them back from Jerimy, because the last of the designs were being stubborn. She just couldn’t see them. The heavy colors and threads of hope and failure in the lineage of the Overlord and the Empress. The vile reds and blacks of the court Magister and his cohorts in the clergy. The opera had set them as almost pure evil, bent on the destruction of the royal lineage and replacing them with their own line. The Magister would bring about the ultimate downfall of the Tragic Prince. His snare would fail to catch Tamara as the young Empress-to-be. But the arranged-marriage Princess, and the Prince’s one True Love were eluding her. These were the two women who tore the Tragic Prince in two direct