’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. I hate what I have to do to survive. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. And not on Melusine’s account, but to see Prudence, who had no use for a cavalier.
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