I felt his heart. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. I’m going to that stupid party at the Vorsack’s to get to the bottom of it. It drives one mad at times. The sword, Jacques. Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it.
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