No answer; Charlotte imagined him shushing David, pointing at the study door. Stefan drank from her with such tenderness, like Karl, but without Karl's passion and anguish… and after a few moments he relinquished her to Pierre. As he turned round, she huddled back against the carved headboard and his lips thinned, very slightly. The flags echoed under the heels of their riding boots.
His tone was taunting. I can think of one very good reason. If only he could call out to them, bless them… But what was this? A dull silver line arcing through the darkness. Oh God… I've waited so long for this… all my life.
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