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I’ll be gone a month, two at the most, and I’ll write him a letter from Everless to reassure him that everything is fine. When I come home, the purseful of blood-irons will make up for my deceit.
Suuure you will.
I remember this Liam from childhood, always ready to correct someone with some useless fact he found in one of his books and a harsh word.
I like her.
For an instant I want to kiss him—but hold myself back, remembering that my touch is a mark of death.
Aw, man. No goodbye kiss??
