If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. She shot a sudden glance at him.
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