Larkspur Quinn

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The kiss did not make my heart flutter or frantic; instead, I relaxed. It tasted sweet, as dulcet as the music I played with the other noblewomen while lounging in our field. It was as gentle as the people who regularly attended to me, and it was as warm as the sun that I was no longer subjected to all day. The kiss tasted like reassurance, security. The kiss tasted like power.
Masquerade
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