"Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. "I was merely about to observe that I am in possession of her secret. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. " Sir Rowland's brow darkened. “Steady on!” he cried. This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. ‘Espèce de bête,’ she snarled.
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