She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. ‘Very well, never mind. I do not care, but only that you will leave my affairs to me. He was looking pale and ill. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. It’s no half reform either. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. Kneebone. Families had seen their lands seized, their chateaux ransacked or burned, and those unlucky enough to have failed to anticipate disaster, had been murdered or dragged away to gaol. ” She scoffed.
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