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Alinor bit her lip. She had not realized. It was indeed necessary that she be more careful. "No, no," she agreed quickly. "I will call you 'my lord' or 'Simon' when we are among others. Do not fret, my lord. Only come with me and let me attend to your hurts." |
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He searched her face and found there only a desperate anxiety. "I am not hurt," he assured her, a little relieved. |
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Those warm lips, opening so readily, that little tongueShe had only been aping his practiced caress. She did not understand. The words of loveonly relief. He had done no irrevocable harm, he told himself, yielding to her pull and following docilely around the hut, out of sight of the carnage he had wrought. There was no need for him to tell the Queen he was no safe guardian. No need to yield his trust to another who would not really care for her. |
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"Sit," Alinor bade him, ignoring the silly remark that he was not hurt. She found to her relief that her knife was still in her hand and smiled a little, thinking how the body responded to need without real thought. When the strange man-at-arms had reached for her, she had stabbed his hand before she even thought of doing so. Yet she had held her knife carefully atilt all the while Simon embraced her and she him. |
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Simon was glad enough to rest for a while. The succession of violent exertion and violent emotion combined with loss of blood was taking its toll. He sank down, propping his back against the wall of the hut, lifting his scabbard out of the way, and making sure his sword was loose in it. Although he made preparations for defense automatically, he did not fear attack. His men and Alinor's would not go far. He closed his eyes. |
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A sound of tearing cloth jerked them open again. "What do you do?" he asked, seeing Alinor with her skirt above her thighs busily slitting her shift to pieces. |
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"For shame," she laughed at him, "look away or you |
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