Laura Rhoda's air of synthetic gaiety was oddly disturbing today. Sleep was over for the night. His breathing was heavy. He's young for a High King, but ambitious, never knew a man of that age so ambitious.
Did I tell you last night? he asked as he stopped for a red light. Neither do you, Iris. She twisted impatiently, wondering if the Merlin had indeed laid an enchantment on her, that she could not leave off thinking of Uther. But something happened.
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