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... ozens died in Sacromonte’s gutters every day and no one batted an eye, but if you tossed forty bodies on pyres and made people look at them suddenly it was the greatest tragedy in the world. Watching Isabel Ruesta bawling her eyes out the thief held back from rolling his own. Her admirers were already flocking to offer her sweet words of consolation, though he noticed they looked shaken too. That was the thing with nobles: they’d lived such pretty lives it never really sunk in that they were alw ...
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