He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. ‘But she will not shoot you,’ Melusine told him flatly. And so your Melusine is busy trying to prove that she is the real one. This time he couldn't get far. And then: “Of course! Always. ” They went on for a time without another word. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. ’ He nodded.
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