It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. Which are you—Valade or Charvill? Or, no, let me guess. Between her and the fair, far prospect of freedom and self-development manoeuvred Mr. ” She shivered.
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