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He had never wanted daughters. Find that boy. You are the High Priestess of Life. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. But it's best to be on the safe side. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked.
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