“It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay, Poppy. Stop. Look at me,” a voice demanded. “Look at me, Princess.” Princess. The Ascended wouldn’t call me that. Breathing ragged, my wild gaze swiveled around the carriage, stopping when I found him. He hovered over me, cheeks spotted with blood. “Hawke,” I whispered. “Yeah. Yes.” He sounded shredded and windblown. “It’s me.”
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