” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. How long have you been playing?” Lucy breathed an internal sigh of relief. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. “You are in a private room of St. Find that boy. Blueskin, however, was not unattended. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls.
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