Revenge is a dish best served cold. How very apt, thought Imperial Ambassador Ennodius as he watched his diplomatic rival, Harrington, finish the gazpacho soup across the banquet table. Last year's humiliation would be repaid at last.
He had gauged the dose of the medical-grade laxative perfectly, mused Ennodius - for as Harrington stood to deliver his inter-course speech, a look of consternation crossed the man's face. The results promised to be . . . explosive.
Ennodius regarded the brash sepia decor, and sat back with a beatific smile. The chamber's unofficial designation of 'the Brown Room' was about to go down in infamy.
