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Chapter 84
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2021-06-07 23:57:33That night I slept on that indulgently soft bed, beneath those fresh silk sheets. Muted light from the fires out on the desert sands patterned the curtain and sparkled in the stained glass. My body could not have wished for greater comfort, but my mind was restless.
Our need is shared. We are inevitable. The Prince's words swam through my head.
I saw the strange logic. If I was trapped here for all time, then it wouldn't matter how many years or decades or centuries I denied myself the taste of him; there would come a night when I would offer myself to him eventually.
So why resist at all, if it was inescapable?
I drifted, indecisive, between wakefulness and sleep. I rested my eyelids.
I dreamt of Krimeya. Scarlet with anguish as she discovered our home empty but for salt and smoke. Her hypocritical, heartbroken, howl cracking like a whip through the centre of my chest.
I lay awake terrified that she might come looking for me,
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The girl looked at Percival and he snarled at Camilla but she said,” You want your manhood, I am certain of that. If you do then you need to let go of the human right now.”“As much as I would have loved to have fucked you I have to let you go,” said Percival and the girl moaned at his voice and said,” You should not have done this if you had a girlfriend.”“What can I say? You are a tempting one, sweetheart,” said Percival as he looked straight in her eyes and then said,” You will recall nothing of me or this encounter or what happened with you. You need to forget that you ever came here and just recall that you had too many to drink and then you threw up and then went back to your friends.”Her eyes glazed over and she said,” Yes…I know nothing…”Then Percival turned to Camilla and she said,” You need to take me now.”“I thought that you were s
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Myrtle turned over again on her straw mattress. Sleep was not coming to her tonight. The stifling air of midsummer was compressing her little cellar room, a suffocating force from outside. She felt she was sleeping less lately than some of her friends who had husbands, and who wryly complained to her over laundry baskets of their nocturnal duties.Something always had held her back from marriage; not any kind of disdain toward the life of a wife and mother per se, but more something as yet unrealised, palpable, that often bristled within her as she lay in her cot at night. A difference. An affinity with something she could not yet identify. Her suspicion as to what this was both terrified and exhilarated her. Certain others around her seemed to perceive this simmering force. Always women, always unspoken. The owner of the apothecary, Freida, always seemed to hold her gaze a little too firmly each time she went to pick up father's salve. Daisy, who brushed and mucked out the h
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