For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. It wailed at Lucy, chubby arms reaching towards her, pleading. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. When she tried to speak she found it difficult. ’ ‘But what age are you? Do you not require an heir?’ Melusine asked, her tone shocked. .
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