She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. "But clear the room of this rabble, if you have sufficient authority over them. “I want to have no distractions. She paused. And the bedchamber, for which Melusine instantly headed, was almost bright. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again.
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