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Chapter 66: A Decade of Absence (3)
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... who cared for me when I scraped myself on thorns as a boy, but a red girl, executed the very next day.”
—Aston von Rosenmahl
Arthur and I walk side by side through the streets, the rather slim greens and broad oranges in bright contrasts that clash almost violently in my eyes. Arthur resembles his family about as much as a human resembles an ape—same species, but the shared dignity stops there.
We Blues are taught from childhood not to question our reason for existing, bu ...
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