To Breanna for believing in this project at every step. Valade stood his ground, holding the doorjamb, and facing up to the general. It was an easy one to smell early on, Sebastian had taught her: anything reproductive. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. His slightest move caused her infinite pleasure.
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