The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same thick legs. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above.
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