What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. While you live in my house you must follow my ideas. It had been a part of the vast domain of the servants in the house’s earlier incarnation. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle.
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