She struggled not to be afraid. Neither their mother nor Sebastian noticed, as certain members of the house had taken to avoiding each other. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. Caliban absolutely crowed with delight.
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