There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. The latch had not fully caught. ” He said as they parted company. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. Take them, and may they prove as serviceable to you as I desire. ” She thanked him with a look and rose to her feet.
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