They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. You and the girl have made it soft for him, and I'm going to make it soft for him. ” Marina would drawl, Lucy invoking her mother’s face as the image of the beautiful but cruel princess Anoush. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. On the way he confessed.
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