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Bride
February 1222, Swansea Castle
Efa slumped hard against the wall behind her, the rough stones tearing through the thin silk of her borrowed gown as she sank heavily to the floor. She felt it rip, felt the painful scrape of stone against flesh, but she did not care. She shut her eyes and clamped her hands to her ears, the thump of her heartbeat sounding loud in her head. If she could have hoped that this was all some sick dream… Read More »







