Ann Veronica surveyed his sloping back for a moment, and then drew her microscope toward her. Blueskin might have butchered you and your brat before I'd have lifted a finger to prevent him, if it hadn't suited my purposes to do so, and he hadn't incurred my displeasure. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion.
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