At least for one moment, it was. ’ The familiar hollow opened up inside Melusine’s chest, and she could not prevent the husky note that entered her voice. "Not my king's," returned Wood. ‘That’s better. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity.
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