He advanced a step towards her. Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. She despises me, I suppose. ’ He glanced at Roding. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library.
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