Her desires were not for riches. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. "He had been many years in this country before his assassination took place. She did not twitch. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. But this is not sufficient.
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