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sleep on


and upon the pyre lay a vision of beauty. pearls and petals woven into curls that had been draped lazily around her soft face, a gown of lavender silk draped delicately across her skin, the faintest of tint in her cheeks. the only sign of life was the steady rise and fall of her breast as she slept on. she looked so peaceful in her death sleep that it caused a horrible emptiness in his heart. worse still was the knowledge that he could not save her.

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