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Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. He loved you. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. Rowland felt himself sinking beneath the powerful grasp of his enemy. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female.
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