Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. “I don’t see why I should take it secondhand. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls.
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