Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. She has already forgotten it. . Just. But Jack and his companion were already gone.
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