Felicity hung her head like a reprimanded child, studying the toes of her boots. “It shouldn’t,” she mumbled.
The high, singing ring of silver and steel leaving scabbards made Felicity look up. Andrew and Andromeda had drawn their swords, both looking a bit timid. Erro sighed and pulled out his daggers, twirling them in his fingers. Felicity straightened up, fixed Michael with a defiant look, and drew her rapiers.
“She’d better be worth dying for,” she said.
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