‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. Particles of bullet were embedded in Rhea’s large arm as she swung across the stones in her donated legs. "I thought it best that you should imagine him. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood.
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