The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known. . Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. . A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand.
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