[ Lucrezia hovers by the door and waits for him, biting back a grin. She runs away because she knows he would follow, but she won't let him today, in case she only ends up in tears and ruins the moment for both of them. ]
Should I fear the day when I run out of them, like Scheherazade and her stories?
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Should I fear the day when I run out of them, like Scheherazade and her stories?