Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. She had even tried a needle and a catheter on a victim once, but had found that the process was so frustrating and slow that she barely gained any sustenance and had done the worst thing imaginable: wasted a kill. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. I was perfectly satisfied with your appearance.
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