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I went into the water closet to freshen up and couldn’t help noticing a few drops of blud on the tub I washed the, the copper cold under ers So Charles of Sveden was my father, and I orth one, killed at my mother’s side by Ravenna herself He had loved h he had probably known the truth Palace politics were strange, and I would be sure to bear no bastards when I was queen Of course, that meant I would need to distance myself from Casper, even if it painedwith Ravenna caht, no matter how I loved the heat of his lips, my feet would soon be in Muscovy, and playtime would be over
But not quite yet
I fluffedoutside and counting the cars and doors to the one I’d reserved for Casper and Keen Before I could talk h to showthe door in my face
He was back shortly in proper attire, with a blush riding his cheeks I ser I felt, which I bla?"
"Ineed to talk to so"
"Is that so smile made me blush in return
He held the door open for me, and I slipped in with a frisson ofthe quarters of their Pinky servants probably wasn’t considered conventional
Their room was a little shabby, compared with mine, but not shameful Two bunks nestled one over the other by a low table and a lamp Casper’s wine bottle sat on the table, and the journal I’d seen in his room at the Seven Scars lay open on the lower bed beside a pencil The pages were covered in feverish scrawling, rily crossed out
"What are you working on?" I asked, realizing as I said it how very rude it was
And yet a grin lit up his face, and he flopped onto the bed and started reading "What is it that you express in your eyes? It seems to mefluttered in my stomach "Oh That’squite pretty"
"I discover e of a usual ?"
"I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world"
"That’s flat-out bizarre Is it supposed to be poetry?"
"I had a favorite book in my old world I was obsessed with it, really Owned several copies of it, one of theift to myself It was called Leaves of Grass, and it ritten by a man named Walt Whitman It didn’t always make sense, butof Myself And while lots of books frohtly different, I’ve never found evidence that there’s anything like Leaves of Grass or Song of Myself"
"So you have Bolstoy, and Dostoevskin and the other h But it doesn’t appear that there was ever a version of Walt Whit to write the book yourself?"
He rolled over onto his back and laughed, a wild sound thatabout you helpsback to ht have enough" His son the wall to cover how very , despite the fact that I knew I needed to distance myself from him It was odd that the dance of bodies should feel primal and natural but compliments from his his lad that you’re"
"Finding the unfound?"
"Yes"
He scribbled soht I looked more closely at his wine bottle and found that its level was lower than I would have expected Heyou wanted to talk about?" he asked
"Maybe Where’s Keen?" I leaned against the wall, opposite hih to touch, for it was a very narrow room
"She’s annoyed with me Well, she’s always annoyed withabout the dining car and see if she could pick up any gossip from the local Pinkies What did you need?"
My mouth fell open as I searched for an answer "I"
I had never felt so helpless and caught out Why had I coiven hts on assassins, Muscovy, Sveden, and Ravenna, all my determination to distance le step to my side His arm went aroundinto hi the wareted with the laces on my dress "It’s just thatonce es I oal"
"I know And I want to help you"
"But how"
"Ahna, honey, are you scared?" he asked softly
"I just wish I was stronger"
He squeezed ot us this far"