Karl… All Charlotte could do was to hold her, stroking her hair, murmuring words of comfort, while inside she was aghast at her own hypocrisy. A regal seventeenth-century lady, in stiff green satin and silver lace. Kristian bit his wrist and put it to Karl's mouth. There was a flowing silhouette coming towards her, topped with ringlets and swaying feathers.
She looked round, expecting to see her sister there, ready to make peace. She fought him violently, but their bodies were rarified in this realm and her struggles only bound her to him. The five large black prints he left in the dust were like some arcane rune to summon creatures from a lost dimension. He sat opposite Karl, Niklas mirroring the action.
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