He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. You have taken my dagger. ” “I began to be afraid you might not come at all. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. He looked from the sword to the dagger with which he had brought her down here, and grimaced. That had shut him up for a while.
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