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. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. He walked her home. “Does Mr. ” Lucy reassured.
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