I sat on the bed beside my cousin, fiddling with the folds of my skirts. “About that… what in the name of the queen possessed you to run off with a man you scarcely know? I hope he didn’t spin you a story too good to be believable.”“Most stories are too good to be true. That’s what makes them enchanting.”“And dangerous,” I muttered.
-Kerri Maniscalco
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