Melusine flew after him, the sword held out before her and pointing directly at his retreating back. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. I met you here as Lady Ferringhall.
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