“Excuse me?” I asked, as I tried to banish the fantasy. “What do you want?” Scion said again, harsher. My fear gave way to confusion. Then, Gwydion stepped forward, extending a hand to me as if to shake mine. “Sorry about them, no manners, I know.” I stared at his fingers like they were live snakes and recoiled. Prince Gwydion was the least familiar to me, if only because he had not been interested in my torment. Perhaps he was not as in sync as the other two—two halves of the same cruel coin. Still, I was not likely to accept his hand any time soon. “Don’t touch me.” He pulled his hand back.
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