Whoever originally coined the phrase "time flies when you are working" was an absolute, irredeemable liar.
Heena sat slumped behind the grand mahogany desk in the Royal Study, aggressively massaging her temples. In her personal, highly violent opinion, the scholar who invented that ridiculous saying should be dragged out into the Vanguard courtyard and beaten with a heavy leather belt. Time was not flying. Time had completely stalled, died, and was currently decomposing right in front of her.
She turned her head, glaring with absolute murderous intent at the bronze water clock in the corner of the room.
Drip.
Drip.
It had only been forty-five minutes. She felt like she had been sitting in this stuffy, incense-filled room for three lifetimes.
A familiar blue digital orb phased into existence right next to her ear. The System hovered in the air, its interface glowing with sheer, unadulterated judgment.
