"Drink this, then," roared Blueskin. On your own. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. He had known she would be shocked, but he was equally certain Melusine would have refused to see her grandfather had she been forewarned. He would advise you how to get rid of the fellow.
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