"You read the poetry for me," I said. Asterion ducked his head. "You can ask for anything you like, and I'll be sure you receive it. But I thought it might…be worth a little." Conall observed us, growing quiet in his seat, still too, dangerously watchful. "How did you know what I was?" I asked Asterion, now at the edge of his desk, pinned between their two stares. "Your mother was kind to me once," Asterion said. "I see…I see her touch in you. I knew you as soon as I saw you in that house. I swore to myself I would find a way to set you free." "Am I free?" I asked. "Yes," Asterion said, brow
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