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''You will kill Papa!" Joanna hissed, holding Simon, her half-brother, by the wrist as hard as she could. |
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"And I will die of frustration myself if I do not speak my piece. The barons must not tolerate King Henry's behavior," Simon snarled, but his voice was low, and he cast a glance over his shoulder toward the stairwell where his father and mother might appear at any moment. He looked in vain for a sympathetic face among his gathered relatives. |
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Restraining Simon was like clinging to a living version of the black leopard painted on his shield. Joanna could feel the ripple of steel-hard sinews under the skin and sense the quivering tension in his whole body, but he did not pull loose. His eyes were full of flickering green and gold light, and his beauty could have stopped a woman's heart. He had Ian's face and Alinor's eyes, Joanna thought, and until this visit, Joanna would have said he had the best of both their natures. |
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"Ian is not so frail as that," Adam rumbled. There |
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