Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. They had cried a little, both. Holding a link into the place, which had the appearance of a deep pit, Blueskin noticed a body richly dressed. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. The wine was sweetened with cinnamon and cloves and rare edible flowers, which her father had instructed her not to drink excessively of.
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