Marquis picked up his tea and held it in both hands, but he didn’t drink. “True.”
“Tell me,” Lung said, “And you may find I do not desire much.”
“My daughter,” Marquis replied, his tone not his lackadaisical usual.
…was I right?
“Have you heard of her?”
“Her name?”
“Amelia.”
Amelia.
Amy.
Holy hell, that’s one prediction I wasn’t really expecting to come true.
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