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datatime: 2022-10-03 09:18:11 Author:zKKLSWDj

What of him? Doyle turned his head to look at me as we walked. The long feathers brushed his neck, mingling with the spill of black hair that was only partially trapped down the back of the cloak. I realized that except for the small knot that captured the front pieces of his hair, the rest of his hair was spilling out underneath the cloak, loose.

I've never seen your hair when it wasn't braided or tied in a club. I've never seen it loose, I said.

A look passed over his face, some serious thought that I couldn't read. I'd never been around a man whose face reflected so many emotions, and yet been able to read so few of them. You are Meredith, Princess of Flesh, and as sidhe as I am. That I will stake my oath on.

Easily done, he said, and undid the cloak at his neck. He let the cloak slide off his shoulders, spilling it over one arm.

But yet the comparison of the two cities saddens you. Why?

I take that as a great compliment coming from you, Doyle. I know how much store you set by your oath.

I was thinking about my father, I said.

I was thinking about his medals that he won in World War II.

I closed my eyes, suddenly dizzy and nauseated. I answered with my eyes still shut. Sad to think that Washington may someday be a tired ruin. Sad to know that the glory days passed this place by long before we arrived. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His eyes were just black mirrors once more. Sad to think that the fey's glory days are passed and us being here in this place is proof of that.

Your thoughts are far away, Meredith, Doyle said.

But yet the comparison of the two cities saddens you. Why?

He kept walking but turned his face full to me, never missing a step. He looked bemused. Why would you be thinking of that now?

I hadn't expected him to ask my opinion. I'd never heard him ask anyone's opinion of anything. I think so, but I'd need to see the hair without the cloak to be sure.

His head cocked to one side, studying me. The movement pulled some of his hair farther out of his cloak to fold under but not fall free as he straightened his neck. I have felt your power, Princess, I cannot deny it.

He kept walking but turned his face full to me, never missing a step. He looked bemused. Why would you be thinking of that now?

What were you thinking about so very hard? he asked. The lights played over his face, painting colored shadows against his black skin. It was almost as if his skin reflected the lights like carved and polished wood. I was touching his arm, so I could feel the warmth, the muscles underneath, the softness of his skin. His skin felt like anyone's skin, but light didn't reflect off skin, not like that.

What of him? Doyle turned his head to look at me as we walked. The long feathers brushed his neck, mingling with the spill of black hair that was only partially trapped down the back of the cloak. I realized that except for the small knot that captured the front pieces of his hair, the rest of his hair was spilling out underneath the cloak, loose.

I was thinking about his medals that he won in World War II.

A look passed over his face, some serious thought that I couldn't read. I'd never been around a man whose face reflected so many emotions, and yet been able to read so few of them. You are Meredith, Princess of Flesh, and as sidhe as I am. That I will stake my oath on.

He kept walking but turned his face full to me, never missing a step. He looked bemused. Why would you be thinking of that now?

None of my direct relatives were involved in Hitler's death, so I don't know for sure, but I suspect strongly that something simply ate her.

Am I just a part of the minority, Doyle?

Easily done, he said, and undid the cloak at his neck. He let the cloak slide off his shoulders, spilling it over one arm.

I smiled. I know better than that. There's hundreds, thousands under our feet.

I was thinking about his medals that he won in World War II.

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