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«Don’t follow me through the streets in the night again, or…» I hissed, glaring at Rose, but the warning was directed at her as well as at Vincent.
«You won’t do anything to me,» Rose smiled victoriously. «Look, you won’t even squeeze my hand any harder to avoid accidentally scratching it with your nails, and you could easily break the bones of someone stronger than me or him if you wanted to,» she nodded toward Vincent. «Don’t be a hypocrite, Edwin. It’s not the walk through the streets in the night we have to worry about, it’s whoever’s accompanying us, and that’s you.»
Rose had seen right through me, probably ever since she’d first noticed the dragon’s wings fluttering in my eyes. There was no hiding it from her. I told her the story of my life. She knew all about me.
I remembered an amusing incident that had happened to us at Viniena just after Charlo, indignant and offended at being deemed insane, had been dragged from the square by two upset servants of the prince. Priscilla wept as she walked away from the place of execution. Her tears washed away the makeup on her face and smeared her mascara from her eyelashes, so that she looked like a rather talentless actress. Clovis behaved more courageously, and held the fellow by the neck’s collar, lest he should pounce on any passers-by, babbling nonsense and thereby exposing the whole secret society. The square was deserted, but carriages were still clattering in the narrow streets behind it. The horses, whether they smelled a dragon or death in my burden, started galloping away, but Rose was in the middle of the road, blocking their way. If it had been anyone else, I’d have been sure the horses would have trampled him, but I didn’t have to fear for Rose. She would have considered my overprotection to be picky. When she and the carriage were already a few paces apart, the horses snorted and bucked, and seemed happy to rush back, if only not to approach the graceful female figure frozen motionless in the narrow alley.