His heavy-lidded eyes watch me with something like worship. He holds out a hand. “Come here. Come down here with me.” I move toward him. “Do you believe me now? Do you believe that I haven’t chosen Edward over you?” “I believe anything those pretty lips want to say to me. Tell me that the stars revolve around the sun—” “—they do—” “—or that the Romans are weak, or that the gods don’t exist, and I will defend your lies to my dying breath.” I take his hand, and for a moment, as our fingers touch, I can see the faint glimmer of a silver thread wrapping around us both. My heart tugs. I blink, and
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