She examined Michelle’s pale face. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. The knight, who could ill brook this familiarity, instantly arose. He let go of the girl’s arm. It was obvious that he had waited for her. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous.
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