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I sit back in astonishment "Is he really the one rites that leaden-footed poetry devoted to the mysterious pools of your star-ridden eyes?"

"It’s not leaden-footed They’re the most beautiful words ever written!" She hasn’t opened her eyes "Could you just let rind of the wheels on the street, the clip-clap of the horses’ hooves, and the pad of the servants’ feet as they walk alongside out in the sun blends into a soothing rhyth about a sailor stealing off his ship at dawn to meet his beloved so she can "wash his clothes" I shutthe victory tower, that I reach the top and pull off my mask

It’s just a dream It will never happen

Aods! Father’s not here yet"

We live in a district where lowborn Patron e and wealth have set up households behind high walls The green gates of our house are et out in the carriage yard and hurry indoors past Father’s parlor and study, past the reception roos he can afford, and into the family quarters

"We did it!" Amaya takes hold ofwent perfectly!"

The tension and the ein to drain and I start to relax

Just as we enter the faracious parlor we hear Bettany screech

"I can’t anymore! I won’t! And you can’t stop me!"

That tone is trouble and this is not a day on which ant any further notice froe and into the suite we four girls share I bar the door behind us

Bettany faces Maraya The contrast between them could not be more stark Maraya has the same short, stocky build as Father Bettany towers over her Her hair spreads like an aura around her head Hers is the beauty that crushes rather than soothes