"I can't," answered Blueskin. ’ ‘Compel me? You do not know me, monsieur. . She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her.
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