Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. She looked from Anna, who was far too nice-looking to be travelling about alone, to that reassuring pile of luggage, and wrinkled her brows thoughtfully. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. Her back arched slightly in response. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. “I’ll get a towel. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. His face fell. It's a pity you wouldn't give me the prescription instead of the medicine, so I could have it filled nearer home. Lucy had been ignoring her, not purposefully, but noticeably.
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