She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. They pressed more insistently, forcing her lips open. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. You would be alarmed of how sulphurous it is, how sickeningly sweet. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House.
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