It had been easy to steal. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. "Your sympathy is being wasted. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again.
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