He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. But one was clearly the goddess among them, her face hidden, her body seeming to call out to me to possess it at once. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. ‘All right, Trodger.
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