Sophie touched his face on the page . . . twinkling blue eyes, skin like marble, ghostly white hair . . . He wasn’t a stranger. She had dreamt of him her last night in Gavaldon. The prince she picked from a hundred at a castle ball. The one who felt like Ever After. “All these years I waited,” said a warm voice. She turned to see the masked School Master glide towards her from across the room, rusted crown crooked on his head of thick white hair. Slowly, his body unsnarled from its hunch, until it stood tall and erect. Then he took off his mask, revealing alabaster skin, chiseled cheeks, and
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