Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. ” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. "I will have no satisfaction but his life.
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