The latch had not fully caught. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. Annabel shook her head. The rogue took everything we had. And then you go—and half throttle me. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. I'll show you the Shamien; and we can talk all we want. Pull yourself together now. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. .
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